


Fucked For Life

by Awritersmind



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, Gallavich, M/M, Slow Burn, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:35:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 88,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awritersmind/pseuds/Awritersmind
Summary: Coffee Shop AU. What if Mickey did have a little civic pride and never started robbing the Kash and Grab. How long would it take for him and Ian to run into each other then? Would they find each other in a similar way or are they Fucked For Life?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 286
Kudos: 522





	1. Chapter 1

It’s barely 7 am and somehow the place is already packed. College kids, hipsters, families and god only knows who else, fills the place with a shit ton of noise and takes up every fucking table. Mickey grumbles as he pulls the doors open already glaring down the people hovering in the doorway. They don’t move as quickly as they should till the black haired man is using his elbows a bit harder than necessary to part the crowd.

He spots the table in the corner and smirks. The small table is covered in dish-ware, extra napkins, and other coffee shop essentials along with the single chair shoved into the wall right next to it. While the rest of the crowd hovers over the other patrons, attempting to make eye contact with their current residents, Mickey starts to clear the table, shoving everything into the closet hidden behind the sign before throwing his jacket and bag on the back of the chair. He can feel the eyes of the people behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder and a pointed glare gets them all back to staring down the other tables.

A cup of coffee is slammed down onto his newly acquired table. Mickey doesn’t even look up as he holds up a few bills and feels them snatched out of his hand. That’s why he likes this place. He remembers the first time he even walked in to the small coffee shop. Mickey used to avoid every new fancy looking business that popped up in his neighborhood. He even shot up a few with his brothers that brought out the swirly lettered signs a little too soon as the neighborhood “transitioned”.

A lot of shit had changed. A lot of it hadn’t.

The first time Mickey walked into the coffee shop a year ago the place was only half as packed as it was now, but the two people behind the counter still looked ready to drop dead. He gave the menu a confusing once over before just ordering a coffee.

“Thank fuck,” the girl behind the register let out, causing Mickey to huff out a laugh.

He raised his eyebrows when she snatched his money out of his hands before looking her over. She had dark hair, bangs, and pale skin, but when she looked him in the eye, as she handed over his coffee, her brown eyes made his shoulders droop. That wasn’t the first time Mickey would admit to himself how much he missed his sister, but it was the thing that got him to actually pick up the phone and make sure the bitch wasn’t dead.

That was a year ago. A year ago that he just stumbled in not quite knowing what to do after signing his divorce papers. He still ran with his brothers and his dad, making sure the collections got done, making sure no one else fucked up too badly, while somehow staying one step ahead of the cops. Without his fucking wife’s hand always in his pocket he had enough money for his own shitty apartment and regular cups of coffee made outside of said shitty apartment.

Mickey now popped into the place almost every other morning. The baristas, Sam (the Mandy Clone) and Kenny, seemed to be relieved for Mickey’s need to be left alone with his thoughts in the beginning. The refills came quickly and no small talk was made. 2 months later when Mickey brought with him a few sheets of paper and a pencil he almost cringed when Sam came over to refill his cup. Her eyes only glanced at the paper and his poorly drawn scribbles, her expression not changing, before walking away.

After that it took about a month of Mickey waiting till his second cup to pull out more pieces of paper and start sketching. 3 months after that he didn’t give a fuck. 6 months after that Sam lingered at his table after refilling his coffee.

“You do commissions?”

Mickey looked up with one eyebrow raised.

“Fucking what?”

“Commissions. Draw shit for people who pay you.”

“Who the fucks gunna pay me for this shit?”

“Me, maybe.”

Mickey just blinked at the other brunette. This was the most outside of his coffee order that they had ever spoken. Kenny had tried a couple of times to ask him what he was drawing several months back, but it didn’t take long for the guy to get the hint. Sam never said a word until now.

“Why?”

The girl shrugged with the coffee pot still in her hand.

“I want a new tattoo and I think your shit is good, that’s why.”

Tattoo? The fuck?

Someone liking what he drew was one thing. Someone wanting what he scribbled on their body till they died was a whole other level of ‘what the fuck’, but before he could even respond she was heading back over to the counter.

“Just think about it,” Sam called over her shoulder and surprisingly enough Mickey did.

Now the grumpy barista’s right upper arm had Mickey’s version of the Chicago skyline, complete with ‘Fucked for life’ spelled out in the lit up windows in all black and grey. It only took Kenny a week of longingly looking between Sam’s fresh tattoo Mickey’s table for the stocky man to cave and ask,

“The fuck you want then?”

He charged him twice as much for the stupid idea of a dragon breathing out bullets. He charged triple when the owner of the coffee shop asked if he’d draw some shit to hang in the place. It wasn’t anywhere near what he’d make running shit with his brothers, but some cash making its way into his pocket by legal means felt good for some reason.

He had one of the pieces done with two more to go. “Southside themed” is what the stocky blonde owner had requested. Mickey wanted to ask if that meant he was suppose to draw a fucking forty spilling out onto trash under the El, but Kenny shaking his head behind the woman left Mickey to just raise his eyebrows instead. Better to get paid first. Though the first one, now framed near the front, was of a broken down house next to the El, complete with passed out homeless person near the bottom of the piece, if you were looking closely enough.

Mickey put on his headphones and pulled out the current piece he was working on. The headphones weren’t connected to anything. He preferred the lull of noises that came with changing crowds, but as he kept drawing he found out unfortunately people thought that meant he wanted any Tom, Dick, or Harry to talk to him about their random piece of shit family member who also draws. Headphones were preferable to having to deal with shit heads every other hour.

By the time Mickey looked up to signal for his 2nd refill the crowd has died down and only a few of the other tables were still occupied. He was about to lose himself again in the drawing when a flash of red outside the window caught his eye.

Mickey tried his best to look down again as the tall redhead walked through the door, but gave up as the object of his attention started to subtlety stretch as he waited to order. The guy was jacked. Mickey let his eyes wander over EMT uniform as he squeezed his pencil a little too tight. Fuck, he needed to get laid.

Mickey had been watching him for months whenever the fuck decided to make an appearance. The redhead would be in at exactly the same time everyday for weeks before dropping off the face of the earth and then randomly be back to his regular routine. Strolling in at 12:30 for a midday coffee order.

At least Mickey thinks it’s a coffee order.

It might be some other fancy shit judging by the way Sam’s face seems to scrunch up as she types it into the computer. She always melts into a rare smile when she looks back up the man though. Mickey can’t blame her for that. No way he could stay pissed at a fucking face like that either.

Yeah, he really needed to get laid.

It had been a few weeks since he had a chance to find a quick fuck in an alley behind a bar he was sure none of his family had ever heard of. Not having to sleep next to the commi bitch was an improvement, but there was no way he was taking anyone back to his place, too risky. The couple of times he allowed himself to crash at some rando’s for the night he’d have to deal with their pissy attitude when Mickey would immediately start dressing once they were done. Too many whiney bitches and a few actual fist fights later, (some fairies could pack a punch, who knew?) Mickey was back to his alley routine. A routine that unfortunately was constantly getting interrupted the last two weeks by his Idiot brother Iggy.

A lot of things had changed this past year. A lot of things hadn’t.

The brunette shook his head as he focused away from the hot red head still waiting on his order. Tonight. It didn’t matter what the fuck Iggy fucked up this time, tonight Mickey wasn’t going to cover his ass. He tried his best to focus on the drawing in front of him only to tighten his grip as he retraced the same line over and over. He waited, patiently, for the bell above the door to signal the sexy fuck was gone, but no such relief came.

Instead, to Mickey’s horror, he heard the unmistakable sound of someone pulling out a chair at the table next to him. He looked up to see the man he’s salivating over settling in with his drink and pulling out his phone.

Fuck.

He quickly shifted his focus back to the paper in front of him. He willed his hand to move off the same god damn line and just draw something else. His ears strained for every little movement of the man next to him as he bit his lip and finally got his hand to move to another part of the drawing.

Bing

Mickey pulls out his phone as he glances over the text message his brother sent. He barely gets through the first sentence before Iggy’s name pops up on the screen. Fucker has no patience.

“What?”

“Did you collect from Sanchez last week?”

“No, Sanchez is on your shit. The fuck would I be the one dealing with him?” Mickey grumbled as he lifted his free hand to rub at this forehead. Iggy really needed to get his shit together. He let his brother babble out his excuses for a few minutes before loudly sighing and looking to the ceiling.

“Fuck Head, it isn’t that hard! Who do you think handles this bullshit when you don’t? You think this is some fucking sitcom where everything turns out fucking peachy keen?”

The barely concealed laugh to his right is quickly suppressed, but before Mickey can have the sense not to look over he sees the redhead’s blinding smile hidden behind his drink. He is still looking directly at Mickey and fuck are his eyes green. The attractive fuck has also decided for once to take his damn EMT jacket off and Mickey can finally tell how broad his shoulders are. His arms are huge as well. All of this new information Mickey only gets from his periphery, forcing his eyes to remain on the green ones that still haven’t looked away.

“Mick?”

“Fuck, what?”

“I said, Dad needs all the cash by 6 today…”

That snaps him out of the fantasy of the arms attached to the sexy piece of shit in front of him, pinning him against a brick wall, back to the piece of shit still rambling in his ear. Mickey raises his eyebrows and man finally looks away. Mickey keeps his eyes on him though, just long enough to see the red bleed from his hair down to the rest of his face.

“Of course he fucking does. Fine, but I’m not doing this shit again Iggy!”

Mickey doesn’t wait for his brother to respond before hanging up and gathering his paper. He places his mug on the counter, trying his best to not turn around and see if the redhead chanced a second glance. There is no way Mickey is that lucky.

He gets through the door, but his will caves as he passes by the window and looks to the back of the cafe. Again he’s met with green eyes and smile even wider than the one before. This time it is Mickey who can’t help his flushed face.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days straight of nothing but shit. 

Sanchez was not the only collection Iggy didn’t make. The rest of Mickey’s Wednesday was running after pieces of shit who all thought that half a payment wouldn’t get their fingers broken. After finally getting the every last cent then Mickey was roped into heading to the strip club. Not many things were worse having to watch a fake pair of tits bounce in his face next to his loud ass brothers. Worse yet was Terry’s occasional glare in his direction, pushing Mickey to adjust his pants to at least make it look like he was turned on. Instead, he could feel his balls trying their hardest to retreat inside of him as he watched Collin motor boat some other girl, who seemed to be pretending as much as Mickey was. By the end of the night he had downed way more Jack than he originally intended. 

It took till three the next day to pull himself out of bed and slink over to a place he knew he could get some action. It took another few hours nursing a beer he didn’t even want to be drinking to catch some blonde’s eye. Finally his luck was turning around. That is till Mickey walked out back to find the guy already bent over with his fingers in his ass. 

“Fuck it.” 

He would take what he could get tonight. He wasted no time pulling out a condom as the blonde got up to three fingers. Mickey tried his best to plant the image of Red’s shoulders on the back of his eyelids as he started to plow into the man. It took all of two seconds for that image to fade as the idiot under him started to moan.

Mickey tried his best to block it out and just focus on his own dick, gripping the man’s hips even harder as he picked up the pace. The man’s moans only grew louder with his efforts. It took all of Mickey’s focus to not start comparing the sound to the fake shit he had heard coming from some of the strippers mouths the night before. 

A few minutes later Mickey came, barely, and as he tucked himself back into his pants he could still feel the agitation under his skin. Why was it so hard to find a top worth fucking now a days? 

By the third day Mickey finally gets his ass up at his normal time and heads over to the coffee shop. Again the place is so packed people are staring down tables and again there is a singular table in the corner with shit piled on it. Mickey sighed in relief at the sight of it. Maybe he needed to start tipping Sam a bit more. 

His cup of coffee appears a few minutes later, but instead of rushing off Sam is tapping his table. 

“Glare at the table two down for a sec’ will you?”

She mumbles out the question and is already looking over her shoulder before Mickey even looks up. He leans back a bit and settles his eyes on the table. Two rich looking douche bags are pulling money out to throw on the table. They both pause, looking up to catch the brunettes eyeing them pointedly, before reaching to pull out a few more bills. Mickey keeps his eyes on them as he offers up the money for his own order. 

“Thanks,” and with that she takes Mickey’s money and clears the douchebags' table quickly. Mickey doesn’t ever remember this place having table service, but a few people see the regulars getting special treatment and suddenly they need to be waited on hand and foot. Somehow they forget special treatment means tipping. 

Mickey lets the drone of the crowd fill his ears, as he sips his coffee while pulling out his pencils. If he can just sit here all day and not be bothered then maybe his luck is turning around. 

“Mind I sit for a second?”

Apparently not. 

Mickey is mid way through pulling out the piece he’s working on when he looks up and met with green fucking eyes. Instead of locking him into some odd staring contest this time, Red’s already turned around and bringing over an unused chair from an otherwise full table. The good looking fucker takes a while to settle in to his new found seat before looking up at him again, giving Mickey the few short moments to panic over whether he should chew the guy out or see where this nonsense leads. He chooses option three; shift all his focus to the paper in front of him. Like option two would ever be a possibility. Mickey isn’t that lucky. 

“Holy shit, is that Kevin?”

Mickey looks up against his better judgement only to see the EMT staring at his paper. For the second “South Side Themed” Piece he’d picked attempting to draw inside of the Alibi. He tried to draw it almost abandoned but it didn’t feel right till he started throwing in people around the bar. It was all from memory so it was probably complete shit, at least he thought it was. Guess it was a bit better than that if his scribbles at least resembled the actual owner of the place. 

Mickey looked back up the man sitting across from him. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the man pull the piece of paper closer to his side of the table as he tilted his head. The guy could be south side, but for the life of him Mickey couldn’t put any sort of name to the face. He probably just stumbled into the Alibi a few times and thought himself a part of the neighborhood since he took to slumming once a month. Mickey definitely would have remembered seeing a guy as good looking as him hanging around more than that.

The strangers green eyes suddenly narrowed in for a moment as his lips thinned out. He tapped the bar stool in the piece a little down from the half finished Kevin, causing a Mickey to choke out a retort as he realized he somehow hadn’t told the fucker to back off yet. 

“Frank should be there,” was all the redhead offered in response as he withdrew his hand and smiled again at Mickey. 

“The fuck would I want to draw Frank for?”  
That’s it? That’s what his brain could come up with? The fucker in front of him just shrugged as he finally leaned back in his chair a bit. 

“If you were going for accuracy, you got Kevin and Kermit down.” 

Just as Mickey was finally able to get his mind in working order the radio attached to the redhead waist went off only to be silenced just as quick with the EMT’s response. 

“Later Mick.”

Just like that Mickey was speechless again as he watched the man quickly get handed his order and head out the door. Who the fuck was this guy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your positive comments! This is my first long fic and it is all planned out so I hope you all enjoy the rest of the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *brief mentions of murder and abuse.

The chill in the Chicago air was finally letting up to a balmy 50 degrees. Mickey sat on the front porch of the Milkovich house as he fiddled with his lit cigarette in a light sweater. He could still hear the yelling inside the house. Collin was high and ‘Sure as all fuck,’ they had been shorted on their latest run to Indiana. They weren’t, Mickey had checked. Mickey always checked since his brothers couldn’t be bothered.

Well, they couldn’t be bothered until they remembered their dad was still roaming free and would undoubtedly pistol whip them at minimum if anything was missing. Mickey decided to let the fuckers stress for a few minutes longer as he heard them pull out the duffles, yet again, to miss count the merchandise.

The brunette stared at his phone for a moment as he took a pull off his cigarette. His fingers were hovering over Mandy’s contact information. He hadn’t spoken to her in a few weeks and that alone got him itching. After having to deal with her dark eyed clone for only a week he and his sister had started small check ins. Short and not so sweet in the beginning. Just Mickey making sure the only family he didn't want to punch in the throat was still breathing.

Mandy could never leave it at that though. She always had to poke her nose into to his fucking business. Just as he was getting comfortable with their one word texts, his fucking sister had to go and start asking if he was being careful on runs. That quickly led to her asking if was doing anything to break his Parole ( Hadn’t been in the joint in 4 fucking years bitch). It was her increase in nagging that was ramping up with every phone calls (cause she can’t tell if he’s bull shiting over text) that made Mickey wonder why the fuck he kept calling her.

Bitch was even the one to suggest he start at least getting some sort of legal cash regardless if a PO was breathing down his neck about it or not. That phone lecture had been particularly creeply timed right after Sam had asked about him drawing her something for money. Maybe look a likes shared fucking thoughts or something?

Mickey didn’t tell her about the coffee shop. He didn’t tell her about the drawing either. No one in his family knew and Mickey would keep it that way. It wasn’t like Mandy would ever rat him out to Dad, he doubted she was talking to anyone else other than him since she disappeared at 18.

Fuck, that night was seared into his mind.

She had been dating? Fucking? Who the fuck knew before that then suddenly Kenyatta was in the picture. He hadn’t thought anything of it until he saw her one morning serving the fucker pancakes with a split lip and nothing but purple surrounding her left eye. He’d offered to kill him right there, pistol pointed to the piece of shit’s face and everything. Mandy wanted him to back down though, screamed till he put the gun away. Two day later he overheard the piece of shit talking about him taking her to Indiana. A day after that he noticed Mandy always seem to linger longer out in the main room instead of immediately heading to her own. Mickey offered again. Mandy only rolled her eyes.

Him, Dad, and Tony went on a week long run the next day. When they got back Mandy was standing on the front porch shaking a bit as she smoked a cigarette. Only Mickey had spotted the blood on the sleeve of his sister’s sweater and when he looked a little closer saw a bit under her fingernails as well.

“Burn this,” he said as he pulled at her sweater a bit “and fucking scrub your nails, amature.”

Mandy only shrugged him off as she rolled her eyes. He lingered on the porch while his Dad and Tony pushed their way passed them both. Mickey waited till they had closed the door before nudging his sister one more time. He could see the water in her eyes as she finally looked at him.

“You good?” He asked, already knowing the answer and knowing what she would say. He could hear someone with the hack saw in the back.

“Fucking fine, just make sure they don’t fuck it up.”

Mandy left him on the porch before escaping to her room and in the morning she was gone.

Mickey had made sure none of his brother’s fucked up disposing of the piece of shit. He had always wondered why Collin had had this horrible look on his face after bagging up a certain section of Kenyatta. Mickey never actually asked though. His sister was terrifying when she needed to be and unfortunately, for whoever pissed her off, creative as well. Her ass would be covered just like all the pieces of Kenyatta now were covered in cement around various places in the Chicago land area.

That was 10 years ago.

Mickey cursed at himself as he flicked his cigarette somewhere into the yard filled with junk, grey muck, and lingering melting ice. He clicked on is sister’s number and waited. It rang four times before the bitch finally picked up.

“Assface.”

“Where the fuck are you anyway?”

There, he asked. They had been dancing around it for a year. Mickey would listen to her bitch about her co workers, or the traffic, or lecture him about not pissing away his life, but he never got actual details. He had no idea where she was or what she was actually doing, if there was another piece of shit who he’d have to help her make disappear.

“Ummm New York. Why?”

“Just switch one shit city for another?”

“Oh, Fuck off! At least I’m not still living at Dad’s”

“ ‘m Not.”

“What?”

“Got a shitty apartment.”

“Seriously?”

Mickey doesn’t respond to that just waits as he shifts his weight between his two feet. In the silence he can hear someone in the background. Whoever they are their voice was too far away to tell if it's a dude.

“... just my brother.”

“The fuck you talking to?”

“No one.”

“Some dude you’re fucking?”

“Fuck off!”

Mandy sounds ready to hang up. This is way past their normal allotment of information during their check ins, but Mickey has to know.

“He treatin’ you right?”

“Sigh ... “

“Bitch, I just want to know if I need to have the hack saw in easy reach any time soon?”

“Hack saw?”

That was definitely a guy’s voice. Mickey barely keeps from chuckling as he listens to his sister's half hearted attempts to convince the guy that her brother is just joking around.

“Hanging up now assface,”

Mickey is about to let her go when suddenly a thought hits him.

“Mandy! One second!”

“Fucking what now?”

“You remember anyone from the neighborhood back in the day that was overly friendly?”

“Overly friendly?”

“Yeah, like lacking some self preservation? Has red hair?”

Great body, huge arms, a face you could just fucking stare at like a complete fucking idiot for hours. Mickey tries his best to think of any other descriptor what wouldn’t give himself away.

“You mean Ian?”

“Maybe, what’s his last name?”

It is like a fucking fog in his head. If Mickey can just get the clouds to clear our he can remember why the guy seems so fucking familiar.

“Gallagher, Ian Gallagher.”

Just like that Mickey can feel that exact name flowing out of his mouth. He remembers barreling into the Kash and Grab, catching a glimpse of some freckled faced gangly kid, before he is just a flash of red hair, running to the back of the store. The fucker had messed with Mandy. Mickey was looking for the piece of shit all over town till one day Mandy just called him off. Then that same kid was sitting on his couch, eating his pizza bagels, and playing xbox next to his sister.

“Mickey! Are you listening? He owe you money or something?”

Mickey shakes his head still not entirely listening to his sister. He can remember that stupid grin on the kid’s face. It is the same grin he had seen just last week when the fucker was doing a horrible job of covering up his eavesdropping.

“Mickey! Do you hear me? He’s a fucking friend, so don’t you dare fuck with him!”

“Bitch, calm down.”

“I’m serious ass face! Frank is a piece of shit, but the rest of the Gallaghers pay their debts. Whatever Ian owes you he’s good for it.”

Mickey finally hears his brother’s throwing each other into walls and realizes he’s been outside way too long.

“The fuck did he buy off you anyway?”

“I ain’t telling you my business. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mickey!”

Mickey hangs up on her as he shuts the front door. He barely get out of the way of what ever the fuck Collin is trying to chuck at Iggy’s head, missing them both.

Mandy doesn’t try to call him back, surprisingly enough. While Mickey get’s his other idiot siblings to calm the fuck down and recount the merchandise one more time, he can’t help but picture that red headed punk’s smile

Gallagher huh?


	4. Chapter 4

Mickey sat at his usual table tapping his pencil on the paper. He had finished the drawing of the Alibi in the last couple of days and the owner hung it near the extras station on the other side of the coffee shop. So now as people poured in more sugar or grabbed a coffee sleeve they could stare at the inside of a shitty bar with a bunch of drunks.

One drunk in particular was added after a certain redhead's suggestion, but it wasn’t like Mickey would ever admit to it. Frank resting his head on the bar top, clenching is almost empty glass, while raising his hand to make some asinine point, all while the other patrons seemingly ignored him did just finish the damn piece perfectly.

Gallagher was one of the reasons Mickey couldn’t seem to concentrate. The other reason was trying to find another subject that would still get him paid. Drawing something that was still “Southside themed”, but didn’t involve guns or other possible illegal substance was apparently harder than he thought. He would start drawing only to scrap sketch after sketch. Some of them seemed too repetitive while others could have easily identified him as the one who drew it.

Other than Gallagher Mickey didn’t ever see anyone that seemed south side at the shop. It was all the gentrifiers that took up the rest of the tables. Why that was he couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t as if the place screamed “trendy, new, only come if you have money”. Even though the place hadn’t been around that long it already looked a bit worn down. All the tables and chairs seemed to have been taken from estate sales. or random relatives' houses. The walls were all painted dark forest green and the floor was that same stupid tile Mickey knew was in both the Milkovich house and the bathroom of his new apartment. Only difference really was this tile was clean and had just a couple of chips.

The prices though were 50 cents more than any other run down dinner for a simple cup of coffee. If you drank any of their fancy shit it only went up from there. 50 cents apparently is the gateway to keep out people native to the neighborhood and that gateway was something Mickey had come to deeply appreciate. Even though he was still in the neighborhood and if you were looking hard enough through the windows you could spy his table in the back, the brunette felt hidden.

If anyone knew the Milkovich name here they didn’t treat him like one. Kenny and Sam gave him his space sure, but ever since they commissioned their pieces from him slowly more conversations would get started. The other patrons were even worse. The seemingly oblivious ones would barely even glance at the words on his knuckles, before pushing on to ask him some random ass question that Mickey had no intention of answering. It only gotten worse after his first piece was hung up and Kenny, for some fucking reason, decided to point to his table whenever someone would ask who made the damn thing. Mickey had put a stop to that pretty quickly.

Milkovichs didn’t go to new coffee shops, they shot them up. Milkovichs didn’t draw anything unless it involved spray paint and damaging public property. Mickey could almost hear his father saying the words like a hiss in his ear. “Milkovichs don’t do that faggot shit.” Anything that could lead Terry to catching on to his other “extra curricular activities” needed to be kept under wraps. The fact that Mickey had made it to 28 years old was close to a small miracle and now that life wasn’t complete shit he’d like to keep living it.

Which brings him back to his second distraction of the day. Gallagher knew who he was. Mickey must not have changed that much these past years, but damn Gallagher sure did. The more the brunette thought back on those days, the more clearly he could remember little bits of information about the redhead. How nervous he seemed to be anytime him and Mandy hung around the Milkovich house, always shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting around. He had barely been able to look Mickey in the eye back then. Granted Mickey had that effect on people, especially when he had attempted to hunt the kid down just a few months prior.

All of those things seemed to have grown out of the kid. The man Mickey had been watching the past few months oozed fucking cocky-ass confidence and the fucker had no problem staring Mickey down the last few times he had seen him, but now Mickey hadn’t seen him, not once in the last several days.

All those little things Mickey could remember. What he couldn’t remember was if Gallagher had a big mouth or not. Then the fuck hadn’t come in for his afternoon drink four days in a row, making Mickey more than a little antsy. He definitely knew who Mickey was, that he was drawing shit, and that he came into this coffee shop frequently. All of that and the fucker didn’t seem nearly as intimidated by him as he used to be. Though that might have to do with the fact that Mickey’s brain seemed to short circuit when the redhead was actually looking him in the eye.

Hopefully he could just glare the fucker down easy peasy. A few choice words and Gallagher’s little cocky smirk would quickly turn around. If he had to he could jump him a bit later, but the fuck had definitely bulked up and those odds weren’t solely in Mickey’s favor any more. Mandy warning him off meant no actual weapons, so fingers crossed a beat down wouldn’t be necessary.

Mickey waited a few more hours. He got nothing done with only seven more scrunched up pieces of paper to show for his efforts. He thought he had something with drawing random fucks smoking with some bruises and blood on their knuckles, but every time he tried he ended up drawing Iggy’s face or his own and had to start over again. That paired with the fact that every five minutes he was glaring up at the front counter looking to see if the EMT made an appearance wasn’t doing anything for his productivity. Sam even gave him some raised eyebrow looks of her own after catching him the seventh time glaring at the front.

After that Mickey decided to call it a day and pack it in. The fucker wasn’t showing and he had other shit to do. Who knows, maybe he’d finally find some other shit to draw. Gathering his things he hesitated over whether to throw an extra dollar on the table to make up for the fucking looks, but when he glance over his shoulder Sam just waved him off. He had barely swung his backpack over his shoulder when he felt someone grab his arm.

Mickey quickly jerked it out of the person’s hand whipping his head around to glare at some old dude. Weird stash, balding, sweater vest, this guy he could probably blow on and the dude would just topple over.

“Our lovely barista informs me you’re the talented man who did those nice drawings.”

“Nope.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was sure the young man pointed at your table.”

Jesus fucking christ. Seems Kenny wanted a beat down as well. Mickey quickly started looking over the old man’s shoulder to behind the register. He didn’t see Kenny fucking anywhere the coward.

“Don’t know what to tell ya,” Mickey quipped out quickly and took a step to move around the old guy.

“Come on Mick. Don’t be modest.”

For the second time under thirty seconds Mickey’s head whipped around. This time he found the Redhead he’d been waiting all day for, standing just a few feet away.

“Mind your business, Gallagher.”

For a second Mickey thought just glaring and few choice words worked. Gallagher’s cocky smile dropped at the tone of his voice and his mouth opened and closed a couple of times like a fish.

“So, you are the artist then? Are you open to commissions?”

Commission was quickly becoming Mickey new favorite word. Mickey left Gallagher to find his words and turned his attention back to the old man.

“500 is standard, half of it now the other half when the piece is done.” Mickey quickly riddled off.

“If I wanted it done by next week?”

“Rush jobs an extra hundred.”

The man didn’t even blink and pulled out his wallet. Fuck, he should of gone higher. Mickey always seem to underestimate how deep these new pricks wallets went. The man held out the wad of 100s, counting out three so slow Mickey half reached out to snatch it out his hand before remembering himself. Who the fuck walks around with that much cash on them in the first place?

A familiar huff behind him made all his muscles tense. Another look over his shoulder and yep, Gallagher was still standing there. His gaping mouth was replaced by a shit eating grin that didn’t dissipate at all under Mickey’s glare.

As the man handed the cash over Mickey tried his best to keep his attention on him, but he couldn’t help that he didn’t turn entirely back in his direction, now keeping Gallagher in his periphery.

“What’d you want then?”

“That drawing of the underpass was spectacular. One of the El racing by on the platform would just go wonderfully in my living room⏤”

“Be here next week with the rest of the dough and it’ll be done.”

“Oh, fantastic!”

As the man awkwardly waved as he left Mickey finally focused 100 percent of his attention on the redhead, who still was just fucking standing there.

Mickey raised his eyebrows again as he studied the grin still resting on Gallagher's face. He shifted back to glaring and still no change.

“We got a fucking problem or something?”

Ian only held back a laugh as he raised his own eyebrows before slowly giving Mickey a once over. As Gallagher’s eyes finally landed back on his face Mickey felt his brain short circuit once again.

Did this fuck seriously just check him out right it front of him?

No. No way Mickey was that lucky.

“No problem Mick.” The redhead replied before pressing his lips together, like he had something else he wanted to say but was trying his best for it not to leak out. 

And what was with the fucking calling him Mick?

“Good and keep your mouth shut.” Mickey practically growled as he turned away. He didn’t wait for any other response as he jerked open the door. It didn’t matter that he didn’t turn around. He could feel Gallaghers eyes on him till he rounded the corner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's check in from Ian's perspective shall we.

The first time he had walked into the coffee shop Ian Gallagher was sure the world was fucking with him. The place always seemed to have a steady flow of people coming and going, though no one that had lived in the neighborhood for very long seem to go anywhere near it. He had past it on his daily run a few times and it looked like the type of place that wouldn’t just blink at him in confusion if he ordered a half caf. 

As Ian got to the front of the line to order he lost all train of thought as he took in the girl behind the register. 

“Ready to order?” The girl asked, for clearly a second time. Her annoyance was more than written on her face, but it still took him a few minutes to speak. He was staring at Mandy, but Mandy was now blonde, and lived in New York, and definitely had blue eyes. 

“Oh, yeah um… a medium half caf, please.” 

Ian had to hold back the urge to ask if she possibly was another Milkovich. The look she gave him at his order, a half smile hiding her reluctant patients complete with raised eyebrows, only made him more curious. God knows Milkovichs seemed to pop out of nowhere. Mandy always had at least one of her brothers around, if not a half sibling or a cousin of some kind in and out of prison when she still lived in Chicago. 

Fuck, he missed his best friend. 

Sure, they talked at least once a week, but ever since her last move took her away from the midwest, it just wasn’t quite the same only hearing her voice over the phone. 

So It became a regular thing. Ian would pop in for a mid day jolt and a little bit of nostalgia from his best friend’s clone (possible relative). Then at the end of his week he’d make sure to call Mandy to catch up. He’d complain about the latest Gallagher antics, the last horrible date he went on, hear all about how boring her new receptionist job was, and finally with a bit of prying would get details about her latest guy. 

Mandy had never been secretive about any guy she was seeing, except for Lip for obvious reasons. Now it was like pulling teeth to get her to say anything about Kyle. It was all ‘He’s nice, good job, hasn’t been arrested the pussy,” but Ian could hear in her voice how happy she was. So he kept prying as Mandy kept trying to find any weird reason to change the subject. 

It was a month of excuses before one actually got his attention. 

“One of my fucking brother’s called me the other day.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, just totally random. It was a bit weird… haven’t heard from any of them in years.”

Ian knew exactly how long it had been. The day Mandy had left her family behind was seared into his mind. That day 10 years ago she had just showed up, with her shit packed in a duffle bag. Mandy didn’t even step off the Gallagher front porch when Ian had opened the door. 

“I need to get out of here, you coming?” She had asked. 

“Of course!”

Maybe they should have known something was wrong with how easily Ian agreed to go, but both of them didn’t question it. It took a few more weeks for Mandy to notice how tightly wound Ian was. By the time they got to Detroit Ian had hit his first low point. When he didn’t get out of bed for the third day Mandy called Lip. 

The months following that time were the worst Ian could remember. Yet, Mandy was there for him through it all. She listened to him when he bitched about his meds. She pushed for him to stick it out, but didn’t shut him out when he didn’t the first few years. She gave him a place to crash when Monica died and Ian felt like he was the only one who actually gave a shit in his family. 

He had spent just as much time in Chicago as he did with Mandy in whatever city she was exploring for that year. From time to time he’d ask if she was gunna head back with him, check in on her brothers, see if her Dad had landed himself back in prison.

“Just waiting for shit to cool down, then I’ll head back,” She said again and again. 

By year two he stopped asking when she’d be back. Sometimes he would stay longer than a few weeks, convinced that whatever place city she landed in was somewhere he could build a better life. Then the phone calls from his siblings would start to slow down. Daily talks with at least one of the Gallagher clan turned into just Fiona or Lip. Once a week then turn into once a month. Finally Mandy would kick him out again with a resounding: 

“Just go home to your family douchebag!” 

“What about your fucking family?”

“Like any of those fucks give a damn about me! Not like yours. Go the fuck home Ian!” 

No matter what she did, it was always the look in her eyes as she said those words that got him to go. The tears were firmly held back, but her eyes were still a bit glassy. No one looked for Mandy. No one called to check in even though Mandy never change her number. Not one of the Milkovichs had tried, not like the Gallaghers tried with Ian. That is until one did. 

“Which one called?”

“Mickey.”

Of all of her brother’s Mickey was always the one Ian could clearly remember. Not really easy to forget the guy that chased you all over the south side, wanting to bash your face in. Mickey was dirty, fast talking, and the embodiment of south side piece of trash. The guy was definitely memorable and for more reasons than Ian liked to admit. 

“What’d he want?” 

“To check in, I guess? Fucker texted me randomly a few months ago, then he kept doing it, now he’s calling, so who knows. It’s fucking weird.” 

Ian couldn’t help but smile at that. Mickey was the one Mandy would get drunk and tell stories about. Always more fucked up antics than whatever the Gallagher’s got into, but each word kept a grin on her face. He remembered how happy she was whenever Mickey was coming home from juvie. Mandy made sure she was there to pick him up, something she always seemed to shrug off for any of her other family members.

“Maybe he misses you?”

“Doubt it, probably is looking for some cash or something.” 

***

When Ian walked into the coffee shop the next day this time he was sure the universe was fucking with him. 

After placing his regular order he was once again frozen in place. It had to be a coincidence.  
The man sure looked like Mickey Milkovich, but without getting too close there was no way to tell. Ian wished he had it in him to be more subtle. He was sure his blatant staring was going to somehow alert the dark hard man to his presence, but he couldn’t help keeping his eyes glued to the the maybe Mickey as he aggressively erased something on a piece of paper. 

When his name was called with his readied order Ian almost jumped. He quickly grabbed his drink before looking back over his shoulder. No reaction, though who knows if Mickey would even remember him. Surely trying to beat his ass would make him at least a little bit memorable? If not that maybe the many times he had hung around the Milkovich house playing xbox with Mandy. As he made his way to leave the redhead tried his best to catch a glimpse of the man’s hands, but he was too far away to see anything clearly. 

Coincidence, it was just a crazy coincidence.

A few days later when Mandy called just to check in Ian didn’t mention a possible sighting of her brother. He didn’t mention that he had gone back everyday since and saw him every single time. 

It took 10 days for him to finally catch a glimpse of the faded ‘Fuck U-UP’ scrawled across the brunette’s knuckles. Definitely was Mickey then. Ian would never forget how those letters had looked as a younger Mickey had wrapped them around a cigarette. The redhead’s eyes had been glued to them as a teen, whenever Mickey would dane Mandy and Ian with his presence.

The three of them sat so close together on that ratty couch. He could hear every noise Mickey made as he shoved another pizza bagel in his mouth, his blue eyes transfixed on the screen. As he breathed in Ian’s nose was filled with nothing but Mickey. With how dirty the boy had been it should have been a guarantee he would smell like shit, but Ian couldn’t get enough. He almost had so many heart attacks trying his best to get even closer to Mickey, just so he could smell him a bit more. Fuck only knew the beating he would be if Mickey caught on to what he was doing. 

Okay, so maybe Ian had had a bit of a crush on Mandy’s brother when they were younger.

But it was just young, horny, stupidity. A stupid crush that would definitely would have gotten him killed if Mickey ever found out. A fact that Lip had made sure to reiterate at least once a week incase Ian lost all concepts of self preservation and tried to make a move on a Milkovich. Ian might not know how to play it cool, but he didn’t have a death wish. Plus, with how often Mickey was in and out of juvie or jail it wasn’t like he ever saw much of the guy anyway.

“Just a harmless crush,” Ian mumbled to himself as he not so subtly stared down Mickey’s table for the 15th day in a row. 

The last 10 years had done Mickey good. The dirty teen was a now built with great arms. His once crazy hair was now slicked back, showing off the never ending run of expressions crossing his face as he stared down at the piece of paper in front of him. Even just sitting down Mickey presence filled the room and Ian was once again fascinated. Let alone the one time he had caught a peek at the man’s ass when he stood up to leave. If there was anything Ian Gallagher wanted it was to sink his teeth into that ass. 

“Half Caf for Ian?”

The EMT kept his eyes on the man, waiting for any slight change to show his name was recognized. Mickey just kept his eyes on his table, completely ignorant to the redhead eye fucking him across the room. 

Ian kept at it for months. Several times he got up the courage to approach him only for Mickey to be missing from his table. He tried to figure out if Mickey had any kind of schedule with his visits to the coffee shop. No pattern seemed to emerge. Some mornings Ian would go early and Mickey was there and then he wasn’t for six days straight. Afternoons were the same. Around lunch time seemed to be the only thing Mickey would stick to, then suddenly he wouldn't show up for a week.

Ian would be lying if those weeks didn’t seem to way heavy on his mood. A fact he knew was pathetic. All of this was overwhelmingly pathetic. He was basically stalking his best friend’s brother. Someone he knew was straight and who would make sure he ended up in a shallow grave if he ever caught on to any of what Ian was doing. 

Ian sighed as that reality rushed over him while he shoved a lid down on to his paper cup. Enough was enough, he needed to let this ridiculous thing go. The bell above the door chimed and of course in walks the elusive Mickey. Lucky enough for Ian in front of him was a dingy mirror that had definitely seen better days, but was still reflective enough for him to watch Mickey stroll across the cafe, without having to turn around. 

Ian held his breath as Mickey looked over in his direction. The redhead watched subtly through the reflection as Mickey Milkovich slowly looked him up and down, before biting his lip. The expression barely lasted for half a second, but it was definitely there. Then just like nothing had happened he continued over to his regular table. Ian couldn’t believe it. 

Did Mickey Milkovich just checked him out? 

***

Every trip to the cafe after that was another subtle test. Ian would walk in at 12:30 on the dot and see if he could catch Milkovich’s eyes on him. He realized subtle stretching was his best tactic. That coupled with laying on the charm to the lovely Mandy clone and Mickey would glue his eyes to Ian’s body for at least 2 minutes. 

Every glance out of his periphery confirmed Ian’s suspicion. Mickey Milkovich was definitely checking him out. Ian gathered his drink from the pick up counter and shifted his weight checking over his shoulder once again. Mickey was back to staring at the paper in front of him. His shoulder didn’t seem nearly as tense as they had been the last couple of days even though his focus was razor sharp on a particular spot on the paper. 

Ian let his fingers roll on the side of his coffee cup before pulling out his phone to check the time. He had a few more minutes. He hesitantly walked over to the table next to Mickey’s and pulled out the chair next to him so they were facing the same way. His heart rate went through the roof as he noticed Mickey hand freeze in place.

Breathe Gallagher! Seriously, you're just sitting down. 

As he shrugged off his EMT jacket Ian held back a sigh of relief, noticing Mickey’s hand had started to move again. Although he seemed to be obsessively redrawing the same line. The redhead, as subtle as he could, took a look at the rest of the paper. It was definitely still a bit rough, but that was the Alibi in black and white. Ian’s mouth dropped open a little in shock as he took in each scribbled out line. They all seemed so haphazard, but when you took in the whole picture it came together in an unmistakable version on Kevin and V’s bar. 

Mickey Milkovich was a God damn artist. 

Beep

Ian jerked his eyes away from Mickey’s drawing as the black haired man reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He barely looked at the screen before the thing was vibrating loudly. 

“What?”

His voice was exactly the same. Ian could still remember Mickey screaming his name as he came barreling into the Kash and Grab. He’d been fucking terrified of Mickey back then. If only that younger version of himself could see him now. Ian made no attempt to not eavesdrop on the conversation next to him. It was all like he was fourteen again, playing xbox with Mandy while pretending not to hear Mickey chew out his brothers in the next room. 

“Fuckhead, it isn’t that hard! Who do you think handles this bullshit when you don’t? You think this is some fucking sitcom where everything turns out fucking peachy keen?”

He didn’t mean to laugh. Really he didn’t, but fuck if he didn’t miss Mickey’s odd way with words. Ian couldn’t keep himself from grinning, not even when Mickey Milkovich turned his full attention on to him. He tried his best to hide his face by casually sipping at his cup. No dice. Mickey’s blue eyes locked on to Ian and the redhead couldn’t move. 

Fuck,

Mickey didn’t looked pissed or even annoyed, but he isn’t looking away either. His brother is still rambling on the phone, but Mickey doesn’t answer him. He just stares Ian down till his brother finally gets his attention once again. 

“Fuck, What?” 

Ian isn’t sure if that is directed at him, but as Mickey raises his eyebrows he quickly looks away. He can feel his whole face turning red as he listens to Mickey gather his things and head out the door. 

Did he recognize him? Ian couldn’t tell, but he couldn’t help himself getting a good look at Mickey’s ass as he walked away. It was the same way he couldn’t help but grin when Mickey looked back through the window and locked eyes with him again.


	6. Chapter 6

Ian figured there would be some sort of consequence to his actions regarding a certain Milkovich. It was one thing to have some weird ass staring contest. It was another to actually sit at his table and comment on his drawing. Mickey seemed to have calmed down the last few years though. He didn’t even blink in Ian’s direction while the redhead had pushed his way into sitting with him. 

Ian was figuring out once he got Mickey’s attention he’d do anything to keep ahold of it. His mouth just started moving as he took in the dark haired man and the paper in front of him. Honestly, he had been shocked how much farther Mickey had gotten with his sketch of the Alibi. Kevin, Kermit, and Tommy all filled in the piece well, but that space at the bar where Frank practically lived, felt off. As he had looked between the drawing and the dangerous blue eyes looking back at him, Ian Gallagher slowly was remembering what it was like to fear Mickey Milkovich. 

Mickey was confused that was for sure. His brows were scrunched together as his mouth seemed between the shape of a word he hadn’t decided on yet. Maybe he was deciding if Ian was stupid or insane. Maybe he had jumped straight to trying to figure out how he’d like to kick the redhead’s ass. Either way Ian couldn’t stop smiling for some stupid reason. Mickey’s confused reply about spending anytime drawing Frank had only made Ian smile wider. 

It was all going perfectly till Ian had to go and fuck it up by calling him by name. That was going to have consequences. Maybe, those consequences were the exact thing that was keeping Ian from going into the coffee shop at his usual time for more than a few days. 

Today was no different as he made his way there a little after three in the afternoon. He wanted to keep his little delusion of mutual attraction, without getting punched in the face, for a little bit longer. So really there was no way he could have seen those consequences coming from the direction they came from. Which is why Ian answered his phone without any reservations. 

“The fuck are you on, Asshole?”

“Hello to you too, Mandy.”

“I’m fucking serious, Ian. The fuck are you taking?”

“Taking? Let’s see ... a little mood stabilizer mixed with a pinch of antipsy-”

“Cut the shit, Ian!” 

“What shit, Mandy?”

“You were doing good asshole. Things were good and you didn’t mention shit to me. You always tell me, but no this time just fucking nothing. Then my brother fucking tells me you're overly friendly-”

“Mandy-”

“For him to even mention it Ian, you must of really pissed him off. How much you owe him, huh?”

“I didn’t-”

“I can maybe talk him down, MAYBE. If you fucking tell me how much you’re in for. See if I can get him to give you an extension or some shit. The fuck would you-"

“Mandy!” 

“I’m trying to help you, asshole!” 

“Well, can you at least explain to me what you’re helping with?”

“The fucking drug money you owe Mickey!”

Ian stood on the sidewalk across the street from the coffee shop as he let everything that Mandy said slowly wash over him. Mickey had called his sister. Mickey had talked about him. Mickey said Ian owed him drug money?

“Mandy, I promise you I have no idea what you are talking about.” 

“Don’t start this shit Ian.” 

“Mandy, what exactly did he say?” 

Ian listened to her sigh as he moved out of the way of the people walking by to lean against the brick building. As he waited for his friend to keep talking his eyes quickly landed on the window of the coffee shop across the street. The place was emptier than usual. It was empty enough that he could see straight to the back corner table where the other Milkovich was sitting. Ian kept his eyes locked on the black haired man even as Mandy started talking again. 

“He was being fucking weird. Wanted to know if I knew any too friendly guys with red hair and little self preservation. When I fucking pushed he said I didn’t need to get involved in his business and I don’t think your one to go poking around for unregistered guns! STOP FUCKING LAUGHING ASSHOLE!”

Ian slowly got himself under control. Oh, he was fucked. If the way that Mickey kept looking up anytime someone new walked into the coffee shop, he was beyond fucked. Even from across the street Ian could sense the fucking tension rolling off his shoulders. Mickey was going to probably deck him the minute he walked through the door. 

“Too friendly” did that mean Mickey had picked up on his horrible attempts at getting closer to him? He had been checking out Ian as well hadn’t he, or Ian had totally misread the fucking signals and was a fucking dumb ass? Mickey was full on glaring at the front door of the Coffee shop now and if he just looked to his left he’d probably catch Ian staring at him across the way. 

Ian shook his head as he focused on Mandy talking in his ear. One Milkovich at a time. 

“Mandy, I didn’t buy shit from your brother.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ian.”

“I’m not. I swear to you I’m fucking not. I just … bumped into him a few times. Thought he might remember who I was, but apparently I was just some ‘redhead with no self preservation’.” 

“Well, He knows who you are now… you swear you didn’t-”

“Mandy, I didn’t buy shit from your brother, I promise.”

As Mandy sighed again Ian felt his panic double at the sight of Mickey standing up and gathering his things. He shouldn’t go in there, but fuck if Mickey wasn’t right. Ian Gallagher had very little self preservation. 

“Mandy, I gotta go.”

“Ian-”

He didn’t let her finish in his rush to get across the street, barely hanging up the phone in time as his hand pulled open the door. He caught the tail end of Mickey shrugging off some old guy asking about his art. 

“Come on Mick, Don’t be modest.” 

It slipped out. Honestly it did. 

Mickey’s head whipped around. Ian was waiting for a punch, a glare, fuck anything really that would just cement he was a deadman, but Mickey’s eyes widened while his shoulders dropped. Ian took in every little movement. Mickey’s right hand loosening its grip ever so slightly on his bag at the same time that his eyes started to wander over Ian’s chest. 

Ian may be overly friendly, but Mickey didn’t really seem to mind. Ian grinned as he stood up a little straighter. Perhaps a beat down wasn’t in his immediate future. 

“Mind your business, Gallagher.” 

Ian’s smile dropped as Mickey turned back to the old guy to negotiate a price for his work. He should move, or at least get out of the door way, but he was just frozen staring at the back of Mickey’s head. Ian shifted his weight just a little as he made another dumb decision. With Mickey distracted by the prospect of money he took a moment to oggle the man, possibly for the last time. That is till Ian registered the brunette eyeing Ian out of his periphery. 

Shit. 

Ian took it as his cue leave while he could when the old man held out the wad of 100s, counting out three so slow Ian wondered if guy was doing it on purpose. Mickey started to reach out for the bills before catching himself and slyly turned the gesture into an opportunity to crack his knuckles. 

Ian laughed. It didn’t matter how quickly he covered it up, He fucking laughed. Mickey was right self preservation didn’t even factor in to his thought process, especially when his smile seemed to prompt Mickey to keep his eyes on him. 

As the old man awkwardly left Mickey finally focused 100 percent of his attention to him. Ian waited, trying his best (which wasn’t much) to keep his eyes off of Mickey’s lower lip as the brunette bit into it. They must look like idiots just standing there eyeing each other. 

“We got a fucking problem or something?” 

Was that supposed to be a threat? It sounded more like a hopeful question, to which Ian could only raise his own eyebrows before slowly giving Mickey a once over. Fuck it. If this all was leading to a beat down might as well go all in. As Gallagher’s eyes finally landed back on Mickey’s face he couldn’t help but feel that confidence grow at the slight blush that was definitely starting to cover Mickey’s neck. 

“No problem Mick.” 

“Good and keep your mouth shut.” Mickey practically growled as he turned away before he jerked the door open. 

Ian watched him till he rounded the corner. His grin faded slightly as he placed his order, only for it to double in size as he realized his ‘Mickey spying mirror’ had been replaced. Instead he was faced with Mickey’s finished rendition of the Alibi, complete with one half passed out Frank Gallagher sitting right where Ian had suggested he be. 

***

Mickey didn’t know what to do with this. He was good with being ignored. He was even better at being in people’s faces when he had to, but this type of shit was not what he was used to dealing with. 

He didn’t know exactly what Gallagher’s reaction would be from their last run in, but he hadn’t been expecting the fuck to just sit next to him every day for a fucking week. What was this shit? The redhead didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look in Mickey’s direction. Instead he came in everyday at 12:30, got his order, sat down next to Mickey’s table and then just scrolled through shit on his phone. 

Once he had left before Mickey, but every other day it had been Mickey who couldn’t take the whatever the fuck was happening. He could feel the Redhead’s eyes on him the whole way to the front door. When he turned to look at the fuck through the window he’d be staring right back at him with a dumb-ass look on his face. Everyday the same shit just rinse and repeat. 

Today was no different except for the fact that Mickey was determined to wait the redhead out. He wasn’t going to give him any more ground. This was his fucking spot of peace and quiet from the rest of bullshit life threw at him and like Hell would Ian Fucking Gallagher ruin that. 

Kenny on the other hand most definitely might. 

It was Ian looking up at the barista that had alerted Mickey to the fact that the blonde was hovering around his table. He offered the EMT a refill (which was rejected) before moving to fill Mickey’s cup. Then he just stood there, coffee pot in hand, as he waited for Mickey to look up. 

“What?” The Milkovich finally asked after a minute as he kept his eyes on the paper in front of him. 

“You got time for another commission?”

“Not for any of your dumb shit.” 

“Come on man!” 

Mickey still wouldn’t look at him. Ian seemed to have no issue though as Mickey caught him from the corner of his eye looking between himself and the barista. Jesus, he was a nosey fucker. 

Kenny leaned in as he was about to start pleading his case. He placed his hand on Mickey’s table which got the Milkovich to glare up at him and then at Kenny’s hand. The barista quickly pulled it back before continuing his begging. 

“Seriously, it’s for my girl. I told her about that piece you did for the old guy, dude was cool enough to let me take a picture of it before he took it home...”

Mickey wanted to hit his head on the table in frustration. 

“She fucking loved it when showed it to her, wanted something similar and her birthday is coming up, and it’s romantic as shit apparently if we have tattoos by the same artist.”

Mickey quirked an eyebrow at that last part. 

“She saw the shit you had me draw last time and the bitch is still with you?”

Kenny only smiled as he turned his arm not holding the coffee pot. He looked down at the dragon’s head peeking out of the bottom of his sleeve as he shrugged while Mickey rolled his eyes. Part of him wanted to just tell Kenny to fucking knock it off, especially since he could tell Gallagher was leaning in a bit to get a better look at ink on Kenny’s arm. 

“I can pay everything up front.”

Mickey just sighed.

“Fuck fine, at least she doesn’t want something as stupid as you.” 

Kenny made a small noise of protest at that. Mickey didn’t care, a dragon breathing bullets was fucking stupid. 

“Two hundred,” the Milkovich stated as he held out his hand with a smirk.

“What? That’s double what I paid last time!”

Mickey just shrugged keeping his hand open. 

“Don’t be fucking cheap,” Sam snarked as she walked by, grabbing the coffee pot out of Kenny’s hand. Mickey smirk only grew. He had only charged Sam 50 for hers. Kenny just looked between his coworker and Mickey, his mouth gaping like a fish before letting his shoulders drop with a sigh. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and placed the cash in Mickey’s still waiting hand and returned to his job. 

Mickey shoved the cash into his own pocket before pulling out a blank piece of paper. Wasn’t like he was getting anywhere with the third piece for the Coffee shop any way. He could still feel Gallagher’s eyes on him. He tried to keep his eyes on the paper for a few minutes before giving up and turning to look at the redhead. 

Ian was looking directly at him, his phone laying face down forgotten on the table. 

Mickey raised his eyebrows as they continued their staring contest. Ian huffed a laugh, but continued to stare before Mickey finally broke. 

“What? You fucking want something now too?”

This time it was Ian’s turn to raise his eyebrows, but Mickey didn’t wait for any other response.

“300 or fuck off,” the brunette quoted before turning back to his paper. This time Gallagher full out chuckled. 

“The fucks the up charge for?”

“For annoying the shit out of me.” 

“No neighborly discount?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I didn’t beat the shit out of you. That’s your fucking discount.” 

Ian just shook his head before turning back to his phone. “I’ve got enough shitty tattoos anyway.” 

That caught Mickey’s attention. His eyes drifted back over to the EMT wondering where the possible shitty tattoos were. The memory of the redheaded teenager in camo pants and army boots suddenly came to mind. Mickey remembered asking Mandy about that back in the day. Gallagher had been in some stupid school army club, but it had explained why out of all the things in the Milkovich house, the guns were the one thing Gallagher never seemed to blink at. 

“Let me guess, fucking Army Strong across your back or is it the whole god damn American flag?”

Ian looked a bit shocked before his smile was back in full force. Then the red was once again bleeding from his head across his face. Seems Mickey had hit the nail right on the head. 

“Fuck, seriously?” Mickey was out right laughing. It was too fucking funny.

“It’s not the flag asshole!” Gallagher protested through his grin. 

“Uh huh sure.” 

“Least my shit isn’t always visible,” Ian countered nodding at Mickey’s fingers. 

Mickey rolled his eyes once again before giving Gallagher the single finger salute. For the next couple of hours both of them pretended to be focused on the thing in front of them instead of each other, just like they both pretended that they had stopped grinning an hour ago.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for you lovely comments and kudos! I'm a little blown away by how many people have even taken a bit of interest in my little story. Now that my work has calmed down a little bit updates will be coming a little more frequently. Enjoy!

To say that Mickey was tired would be a fucking under statement. With the final push into spring came way more shit than he ever wanted to deal with. Two runs in less than ten days. His arms and hands still fucking ached. If the pain was from all the filing of registration numbers off the merchandise or the never ending beat downs he had to hand from collections Mickey couldn’t tell. 

He wanted a beer or ten and to crash on his shitty couch and not move for another two weeks. But he also wanted to get laid or get high, fuck anything to take his mind off the fucking ache in his arms. Yet as Mickey walked down the block he wasn’t headed to the shitty bar where he could find someone to bend over for. Nor was he headed to his place. Instead his feet seemed determined to only give out on him once he was inside the coffee shop.

He had finished all of his commissions weeks ago and had no more money coming in from that direction. With no time to even sit at the shop for a few hours these past few weeks, there was no one to gather up the courage to ask him for something. 

It shouldn’t fucking matter. With all the shit he was doing with his dad he’d be flush with cash for a while. Mickey could still feel his fingers twitch, trying to fiddle with a pencil that wasn’t there. It wasn’t like he missed the fucking drawing just the random cash it brought him. Cash that didn’t bring bruises along with it. 

He felt his shoulders drop as he turned down the street where the coffee shop was. Just a few more blocks. He didn’t have any paper or pencil on him, but Mickey could get a cup of coffee and just sit, maybe watch Sam get more exasperated with everything Kenny fucked up. Maybe, if he was lucky, a certain Redhead also wanted a late afternoon jolt and would be dumb enough to attempt sitting with him again. 

If the stocky thug wasn’t exhausted he might have tried to deny to himself that said redhead was the real reason his feet kept moving. Just like he had denied picturing the redhead being the one on his knees instead of the stupid fuck he had found last week. Honestly, if he hadn’t been picturing red hair clenched between his fingers he probably wouldn't have gotten off at all. 

What was with all the shitty lays lately?

Mickey just picked up the pace as the Coffee shop came into view. Just a half a block further and then he’d get his well earned… caffeine fix? Peace and quiet? Few moments of pretending not to stare at the EMT? Probably all three. He was too fucking tired to really care. 

So tired in fact that instead of minding his business he looked to his right at the sound of a scuffle. Mickey Milkovich actually paused as he took in the man slumping against the wall and the other running down the alley. 

None of his business. He’s too fucking tired for this. 

But his feet are moving toward the man still crumpled over moaning. He can see the red on his hand. The man turns his head just slightly and now Mickey can see his face. It’s the old guy. The one he did the drawing for. Fucker was probably dumb enough to flash what kind of cash he kept on him in the coffee shop again. Someone took notice, robbed the fucker at knife point, and the old guy was dumb enough to fight back. Now he’s bleeding out in the alley. 

It was easy to piece it all together. Still it wasn't any of Mickey’s business and he is really fucking tired. 

Before he even realizes Mickey is standing in the Coffee shop. His eyes land on the red head at the back of the room, he’s in just a regular black shirt and jeans, no EMT uniform. Gallagher is just staring at him with a smile. Mickey doesn’t say a word, just jerks his head at the door way before turning around. He lets out a breath as he hears the scrape of Gallagher’s chair as he gets up to follow. Mickey is already half way down the block, but the EMT catches up quickly.

“Mick?”

Mickey doesn’t turn to look at him, just keeps walking and then turns the corner into the alley. The old guy isn’t groaning anymore. That’s probably not good. Mickey finally turns to look at Ian now that he is stopped right next to him. He has to look up to catch the green eyes that haven’t looked away from him yet. They are riddled with confusion as Mickey jerks his head over to crumpled over man bleeding out on the ground. 

“Fucker’s too obvious with the cash he keeps on him.” 

Gallagher’s eyes scrunch even more before finally looking down the alley. 

“Shit!” 

Just like that he’s rushing to action. The redhead is moving a mile a minute with each of his actions. Mickey feels like he flipped a switch as he watches the EMT get to work. Once Ian is speaking into his phone his own instincts start kicking in as well. Cops would be here soon and didn’t matter how much the old guy had paid him Mickey wasn’t going to stick around long enough for them to show up. His feet are moving again as he casually makes his way back to his shitty apartment where he can finally collapse in his bed. 

*** 

When Mickey finally showed up at the coffee shop again Ian was ecstatic. He had been looking up hopefully for two hours every time the bell above the door would chime, only to drop his head again in disappointment. When he finally saw the dark haired Milkovich standing by the door he couldn’t help but grin. 

When Mickey had motioned for Ian to follow he had been confused, hopeful, a bit terrified? Almost every odd emotion had crossed the redhead’s mind as he ran after the stocky thug catching up with him quickly. Ian tried his best to not let his thoughts run away with him. 

Being led into a back alley by a Milkovich was not really a good prospect, but just one glance at Mickey’s face and Ian could tell how tired the man was. The dark circles under the man’s eyes almost matched the bruises dotting his hands and arms. His usual swagger was so muted Ian doubted he had it in him to give any sort of beat down. 

The man bleeding out in the alley was the last thing Ian had expected. Once Mickey had directed his attention to the curled up form laying in a pool of blood, Ian had gone into autopilot. His EMT training barley had him register the sound of Mickey’s retreating feet. 

Emergency services got there in time. The man had lost a lot of blood, but he’d be okay. As Ian pieced everything together a few hours later he couldn’t help but shake his head at the south side thug. If not for Mickey the man would have died. Ian recognized him too, he was one of the people that paid Mickey for his art. No way would a Milkovich call the cops himself, but Mickey must have immediately sought Ian out for him to have gotten to the man on time. Maybe he should be surprised that a Milkovich would move so quickly to help someone, but he wasn’t. 

Over the weeks of watching him at the coffee shop there was nothing but mounting evidence of the carefully hidden big heart of Mickey Milkovich. Every time his brother’s called needing something he’d immediately pack up his things and leave. Mickey glared down anyone that seemed to approach him about his drawing, except the occasional kid who would ask for a piece of paper for themselves. He’d just hand over one of his pencils and a single piece of paper without a word. Ian watched him time and time again glare down asshole customers from behind Sam and some time’s even Kenny. And there was the warmth in Mandy’s voice whenever she complained to Ian about her, ‘Weird Ass Brother’ checking in on a semi regular basis. 

It was a week after the alley incident that Mickey was back in the coffee shop. Ian knew better than to make too big a deal out of it, but as he waited for his order he wanted to do something. Ian tapped his fingers rapidly against the counter as he glanced at the dark hair man drawing in the corner. 

As Kenny handed him his order Ian pushed down his nerves and took his usual seat at the table next to Mickey. He caught the slight freeze of Mickey’s muscles before quickly going back to sketching. Ian pulled out his phone and took a sip of his drink. He listened to the scratch of Mickey’s pencil on the paper for a few minutes as he scrolled through random shit before letting out a sigh. 

“The guy’s alright,” 

Mickey froze once again and Ian finally looked at him. The red head didn’t let the silence linger for too long before speaking again. “It was close, but he’s gunna be okay.”

Mickey didn’t even glance at him, but his shoulder dropped down in what Ian thought could maybe be relief. He started to sketch again, his blue eyes glued to the paper on his table. Ian just waited, taking in every small movement. 

“Whatever, man.” 

Ian knew better than to say anything else, but the words were pressing at his lips. For once he managed to keep his mouth shut even though he so badly didn’t want to. He was focused on his sketching, but Ian could tell how tense Mickey was, like he was ready to bolt at any second. 

  
_‘You saved him. You did good, Mick.’_ Just played over and over in his mind as he sat there watching the man out of the corner of his eye.


	8. Chapter 8

The music is pounding in his ears and the constant changing lights are starting to get on his nerves. 

This is so not Mickey’s scene. 

The floor is sticky and half the guys rubbing up on dancers that could be their fucking kids. Fucking geriatric-viagroids hoping that flashing their black amex cards will be enough to gain some of younger guys’ attention, at least for the night. If that doesn’t work then a not-so-subtle reveal of a few party favors from their pockets makes them look even more desperate. The Fairy Tale isn’t his first choice by a fucking long shot, but fuck it if he was leaving here with out someone who could pound the life out of him. 

Mickey downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass before making his way back to the bar. He could count the number of times he let himself even step into boys town on one hand. It wasn’t like he’d see anyone from his part of town. Not likely someone would out him that would matter. But the fucking glitter and each dude that looked at him more than a few seconds made him feel like crawling out of his skin. 

He slammed down another shot and nodded for another. The bartender was hot. Nothing but gold booty shorts with his tan skin all oiled up, hairless except for the black mop on top of dude’s head. The outfit was ridiculous, but Mickey would be lying if he said he wasn’t half hard with some of what he saw. He had been here for an hour. There was no fucking reason for him not to have found someone that could be good for the night. 

Jesus fuck how are there not more redheaded fucks in this city?

The multi colored lights were really getting on his nerves. As they flowed over the room they changed the hue of every one's hair color, driving him up a fucking wall. Just one was all he wanted. One forgettable but well built redhead so he could scratch that fuckin' itch. The one that had been now been bothering him for months, that sits next to him almost every fucking day with his stupid ass face, with his grin, and his lame ass jokes that Mickey never laughed at. 

He just needed to get those stupid thoughts fucked out of him and then he could finally relax. 

“Can I get you another?”

The words were half screamed into Mickey’s ear, over compensating for pounding music. But the arm that was now resting on the bar was built, definitely enough muscle to manhandle Mickey a bit, so he didn’t deck the guy as he turned around. 

Blonde, blue eyes, average face and wearing a shirt that was definitely a size too small. But he was about Gallagher’s height and his shoulders were just as wide. He’d have to do. 

Mickey nodded his head toward the bartender prompting the guy to lean in closer. His chest was now pushing up against Mickey’s shoulder. If he shifted at all to the left part of his ass would be right against the guy's crotch. The brunette bit his lip as he clenched his fist on the bar top. He watched as the bartender set down two more shots, this time with a wink that had Mickey doing everything in his power not to shove the guy off him and run for the hills. 

They both downed their shots as Mickey strengthened his resolve. He just need to get this guy to take him to his place, get well fucked, and get the fuck out of there. The dude was talk screaming again, his fucking whiskey breath lingering on Mickey skin. He didn’t hear a word the fucker said. Mickey just dropped his left hand to his side and quickly grabbed the guys dick. 

The squeak that came out of the dude almost ruined it, but Mickey ignored it. 

“Your place close by?”

A smirk returned to the guy’s annoying face as he rolled his hips into Mickey’s grip. 

***

Was Mickey Milkovich actually out? 

Ian Gallagher could not believe what he was seeing. It was one thing to know that Mickey Milkovich had a certain habit of checking him out when he thought no one was looking. It was a whole other thing entirely to see said south side thug leaning against a bar in Boys Town. 

Fuck, Mickey look good too. He was just in simple well fitting pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but with his hair slicked back and that ever present grimace on his face, he was just so fucking hot. 

Ian had been watching him for the last few minutes. He was getting immense joy out of watching Mickey ignore every guy that seemed to be trying to get his attention. The bartender wasn’t even being subtle at this point, but it seemed to have no effect on the Milkovich. 

That is till this blonde fucker came out of nowhere. Ian watched as the dude slid right next to Mickey while placing his hand on the bar. He was more than crowding him and the dude was not picking up on any of Mickey’s signs. The brunette seemed to almost freeze in place as every muscle tensed. Ian put down his drink, preparing to jump in after Mickey took his first swing. 

But mickey only turned his head and nodded. Ian was suddenly livid at himself for picking a table that was to Mickey’s back. He wanted to see the brunette’s face, get some reading if this guy, hanging all over him, was actually his type. The fucker stepped even closer and again Mickey’s entire body froze up. 

Ian stood up from his seat as he caught a glimpse of the thug’s fist clenching on top of the bar. 

The punch would be coming 3 2 1…

Ian wanted to turn away, but kept his eyes glued to the two men as Mickey felt the guy up. He watched as they settled at the bar and made their way through the dense crowd to the door. He left his club soda on the table and forced his way through the crowd. By the time he made it outside he didn’t see either of them. 

He didn’t know what he was going to do if he did. Ian Gallagher only knew he hated what he saw with every fucking fiber of his being.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay You all are just awesome! Thank you for all your lovely comments! I hope my little story is helping to bring a bit of joy to your lives during this crazy time.

Something is up with Gallagher. 

He knew shit would get weird after what happened with the old dude in the alley, but other than the red head’s weird attempt at a heart to heart, Gallagher seemed to know better than to bring it up. Plus, that had been a few weeks ago. The EMT had been his annoying self: staring at Mickey, trying to hide his chuckles as some dumb ass asked Mickey for a sketch, pushing Mickey into stupid ass conversations while they sat next to each other. 

But this last week –– nothing. 

The EMT was always at the coffee shop whenever Mickey stopped in, but he sat at his table without so much as a twitch in Milkovich's direction. Ian just glued his eyes to his phone as he scrolled through it almost robotically. 

So Gallagher was a in shit mood, the fuck did that matter to him?

Except yesterday Mickey had caught himself being a fucking idiot. He didn’t just ignore the man at the table next to him, oh no. After five days of the same shit he’d apparently turn into a Goddamn idiot. 

He had taken any possible action he could to be an annoying fuck. Mickey scraped the chair across the floor. He threw his bag down in a huff. He even made sure to sketch as loudly as possible, tearing through his paper several times. Still not a single bit of movement from Gallagher. 

The fucker was ignoring him and it was fucking annoying. 

As Mickey laid on his pathetic excuse for a couch he tried to find something that he could pin his bad mood on. His life was a shit hole. There had to be something other than a pissy Gallagher that was getting under his skin, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. His Dad had fucked off to who knows where. His brothers were (for once) actually on top of their shit. Mandy seemed fine and didn’t seem to want to off her boyfriend anytime soon. The ex wife hadn’t called him in months.

He had even finally gotten laid. Granted, the idiot was barely packing five inches. What was worse was after all his postering at the club the blonde barely knew what to do with Mickey once they got back to the fuck’s apartment. But Mickey had cum with a dick up his ass so it was going in the win column. 

All of this shit and he was still pissed off ‘cause fucking Gallagher wouldn’t Goddamn look at him! 

He was going insane! He must be to let this shit bother him.

He should just fucking stop going to the coffee shop. All that ‘outta sight outta mind’ bullshit had to be said for some reason. Yet even as he thought how stupid it was Mickey moved to pick his keys off the counter. 

By the time he arrived on the block the coffee shop was on he was beyond a bit riled up. That is till he saw a man falling backwards out of the shop with rage filled redhead right behind him. 

Mickey watched Ian Gallagher lean over the man before grabbing him by the collar. The strength in Gallagher’s jacked up body was on full display as he pinned the man to the sidewalk. He looked like he was half a second away from bashing the idiot’s face in, and fuck it was hot. 

“Fucking pervert!” 

As he got a few feet closer Mickey finally saw Sam standing on the other side of Ian while she screamed at the man laid out on the floor. 

“You think you’ve got a right to let your fucking hands wander where ever they please fuck face?”

“Bitch, I didn’t touch you!”

Mickey registered none of the back and forth as those green eyes flicked over to him. All the rage rushed out of the EMT’s face replaced with shock as he stared at Mickey for the first time in a week. So distracted, Gallagher missed the wriggling man getting his leg loose. He would have kneed Gallagher right in the stomach. Well... that is... if Mickey didn’t land a hard kick to his ribs. 

The loud crack and the dude’s scream got Ian to focus again. 

“Jesus Christ, Mick!” 

“Eh, he fucking deserved it,” Sam threw over her shoulder.

Mickey looked over at her standing next to the door with her phone pressed to her ear. She rolled her eyes at the man’s groans before speaking into her phone. Cops, she was calling the cops. He looked down at Ian who was balancing the act of still pinning the man and trying to get a good look at the damage Mickey had done. The brunette sighed in frustration. No way he was ending his lucky streak with getting arrested, no fucking way, but just as he was about to turn around—

“Mickey, could you fetch Kenny?” Sam asked, her voice now calm.

“He—  **_gasp_ ** Fu—  **_gasp_ ** assaulted—”

“Ya know, if you're going to be a fucking creep the least you could do is admit when a girl kicked your ass in retaliation.” 

Mickey and Ian just stared at the barista as she tilted her head to the side. She stared down the man still pinned to the ground. Her rage was simmering behind her eyes and the calm tone coming out of her mouth was oddly comforting and a bit terrifying. 

This is why Mickey liked this place. 

Instead of turning around Mickey sidestepped the sleaze ball and Gallagher, and strolled right into the coffee shop. 

“Hey!” He hollered as soon as he was past the entryway and had Kenny in his sights. The bumbling man for once acted quickly, moving around the counter before Mickey could even gesture at the shit behind him. 

“I’m on it!” the dork exclaimed as he set down a pot of coffee before running past Mickey. 

The Milkovich didn’t miss a step as he snatched up the full pot, grabbed a cup from behind the counter, and then settled into his usual spot. Unlike the other few patrons staring at the scene outside Mickey just pulled out a few pieces of paper. 

His hand flew over the paper quickly, trying to get the scene from his memory down before he lost it. He glanced outside only when the police finally decided to show up. Mickey waited for the door to push open, but the pigs just grabbed the idiot, cuffed him, and took Sam and Kenny’s statement. 

Gallagher wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

“I don’t think my shoulders are that wide.” 

Mickey practically jumped out of his skin before turning to see the redhead sitting at the table next to him. His green eyes were trained on the sketch Mickey was working on. The Milkovich didn’t know whether to cover the paper with his arm, crumple it up immediately, or just deck the curious fuck in the face. Frozen between his options Mickey just stared as Ian leaned in to get a closer look. 

The scene was definitely a bit more violent than what had occurred earlier. The man wasn’t just pinned, but in mid recoil after being socked in the jaw with some of his teeth flying out of his mouth. Mickey’s version of Ian was crouched over him, one hand clenching the man's shirt as the other arm was pulled back with his fist raised ready to strike again. There was little detail added to the pervert. In fact it didn’t even look like the man. The sketch of Gallagher, on the other hand, was a damn good resemblance and was clearly the focal point of the drawing. The shading was messy and haphazard, but it clearly defined the muscles in the redhead’s arms and strands of his hair. 

It was plain as day who Mickey was paying more attention to. 

“The guy from the Fairy Tale, his shoulders were about that wide though.” 

Ian got up casually and patted Mickey on the shoulder before heading out the door. As he pieced what Gallagher said together Mickey clenched his fist, crumpling up the sketch as he stared at the table. 

His luck had run out and he was truly fucked. 


	10. Chapter 10

A fucker with no self preservation. 

Yep, that was all too accurate and Ian was fully realizing it as he headed down the block after leaving the coffee shop. So what if he had seen Mickey at the fairy tale? So what if he had caught him staring far too long at his body? So what if that fucking sketch had confirmed that Mickey most definitely liked what he saw?

Ian knew what it was like being gay on the south side. He knew that if just the wrong person caught him at the wrong time he’d get the shit kicked out of him or worse. To just flaunt what he knew in Mickey’s face like that; It made him an asshole and most likely a deadman walking. 

Over the years Ian had found out how lucky he was. It only took being called in once for some poor guy getting fag bashed for Ian to really get it. He’d never forget the boy wheezing through bruised lungs, a few broken ribs, and who knows what else in the back of the ambulance, all the while refusing to rat on why the three assholes decided to give him a beat down. He wouldn’t be last either unfortunately. After every victim Ian tended to he would go home to the broken down Gallagher house and hug whichever of his siblings was home. He was so lucky to have the family he did.

As he continued walking down the street he couldn't help but remember all the things he had seen in the Milkovich house back in the day. How easily the word fag would slip out of Mandy’s brothers’ and cousins’ mouths. They had all ragged on each other for anything deemed too “girly” or kind of “gay”. Even some of the shit hanging on the walls had something to do with nazis. Ian could even remember some of it hanging up in Mickey’s room. He’d gotten just a glance as he headed to the bathroom, but it was definitely there. 

And he had just let Mickey know that he knew he was gay. All cause he was a fucking jealous idiot. 

Would Mickey beat the shit out of him just to send the message to keep quiet? It wasn’t like he didn’t have the record of getting into fights. It used to be a rare sight to see a teenage Mickey Milkovich without bruised and bloodied knuckles. He did seem to have calmed down quite a bit since then.

Then again he had just kicked that sleeze-ball’s ribs in. Though that was to keep the creep from kneeing Ian in the stomach… wasn’t it?

Ian could probably handle himself against Mickey in a fair fight. He was a solid head taller than the Milkovich, but when had anyone from that family ever fought fair?

***

Mickey was pacing around his piece of shit kitchen. The sketch he had done of Gallagher was laying half uncrumpled on the counter. He should have given the fuck a beat down earlier. He should have stopped going to the fucking coffee shop. He shouldn’t have fucking drawn the fuck in the first place. He shouldn't have gone to boy’s town. Every single thing he had done the last couple of months was added to the list in his head as he stared at his own drawing. 

Mickey could still feel the heat from Gallagher patting his shoulder. It had only been for a few seconds, and he should be fucking pissed that the fuck had the nerve to touch him after the shit he said, but he wasn’t. Mickey rubbed his face as he finally stood still. He let out a groan before glaring at the wrinkled sketch. 

_‘The guy from the fairy tale, his shoulders were about that wide though’_

The words ran around and around in his mind and no matter how much he thought about it Mickey couldn’t shake the implications of Gallagher’s tone. 

That’s why Gallagher’s mood had changed. He had found out. Mickey Milkovich was just a fag and not worth his time.

But he was at the fairy tale. That's how he knew about Mickey. So Mickey wasn’t wrong when he had caught those green eyes lingering on him? Ian Gallagher was gay. So he was trying to fucking black mail him then? A fuckin' EMT made decent money though right? Fucking Gallagher’s were known to be scammers…

 _‘_ **_The guy_ ** _from the fairy tale…’_

Maybe he was remembering it wrong, how the redhead's voice seemed extra snarky as he spat out ‘the guy’ and then when he had patted Mickey’s shoulder… Gallagher’s fingers had lingered for a bit, hadn't they?

Was he jealous?

Mickey shook his head at the thought before groaning once again. It didn’t fucking matter. Gallagher needed a beat down either way so he would know better than to run his fucking mouth. Any fucker could have overheard him. One wrong word near his fucking dad and Mickey would be dead before sunrise. The stocky brunette could only rub his eyebrow before nodding at his own conclusion and moving into action. 

Mickey grabbed his brass knuckles and keys before heading back out the door. Time to hunt down Ian Gallagher. 

***

Ian had only made it about five blocks before he circled back around to the coffee shop. Self preservation be damned. He had to let Mickey know he didn’t mean shit with what he said. Ian could admit to being a petty son of a bitch but he was no snitch, especially when it came to outing someone. Mickey needed to know that. 

He practically jogged back to the coffee shop. By the time he got there all the commotion from the sleaze ball had died down and both baristas were back behind the counter. There were several people filling up the tables around the shop, but Mickey was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey man, you forget something?” 

Ian looked back at the counter to see Kenny smiling at him, waiting for an answer. Gallagher just sighed, shaking his head before pulling out his wallet. He had no idea, outside of the Milkovich house, where Mickey could be and that was the last place he’d want to be seen if Mickey was looking to beat the ever living shit out of him. 

“Nah, just needed another fix.”

Kenny just smiled and went to go make Ian’s usual order while the redhead looked over the other patrons once again. He didn’t know if there was any chance Mickey might stop in again, but it was his only shot. So he took up his usual seat with a sigh and waited. 

***

It took Mickey longer than he would like to admit that he had no way of knowing where Gallagher might be. He could beat down the door of the Gallagher house, but it wasn’t like his family would rat him out. Plus what if they knew about Ian? Mickey didn’t need anyone else being alerted to his preferences. So after scouting out the place for only a few hours he left. 

Mickey used to know way more about Ian Gallagher’s habits. When he was a teenager he knew when school let out, that the fuck had that stupid army club shit a couple times a week, that he worked almost everyday at the Kash and Grab, and when he wasn’t there he was most likely at the Milkovich’s shooting the shit with Mandy. 

Chasing him down then had been difficult and he had at least some idea of the fuck’s schedule. Now, what did he really know about Ian Gallagher? He knew the fucker was a EMT, he had some stupid coffee order, he had a dumb ass army tattoo somewhere on his body, and he was a nosey piece of shit who had no problem annoying the fuck out of Mickey. None of that helped him figure out where the red headed piece of shit might be. 

Mickey was just wandering around the south side at this point. At least if he was moving he could convince himself he still was willing to beat the shit out of Gallagher. Through his stress and his exhaustion Mickey didn’t realize his feet had led him back to the coffee shop. It was closing soon and he would much rather have a few beers than a cup of coffee, but that didn’t stop him from walking closer. 

He barely stopped himself in time when he noticed the red hair through the window. Gallagher was the only person still inside, with Kenny scrolling pointlessly through his phone behind the counter. Either side of the door was framed with huge windows that Mickey made sure to stand far enough away from. Gallagher had been looking down at his own phone, so Mickey doubted he was spotted. 

He pulled out his phone. 7:45.

The place would be closing up shop soon and Gallagher would be alone as he left. Kenny would be much too occupied with packing up shit to notice if a little beat down was happening in the alley. Plus, Mickey could catch the jacked fuck by surprise which, as much as he hated to admit, he would probably need if wanted to get the jump on Gallagher. 

He moved quickly to the alley, stepping back just far enough to be hidden by the shadows with the sun starting to set. The thug was practically biting through his lip as he counted down the minutes. Why the fuck was Gallagher taking so long? Mickey was about to pull out his phone again when he heard the unmistakable sound of the bell above the coffee shop door. 

His heart was pounding a mile a minute as he pressed his back up against the brick wall, listening to the footsteps approaching. 

_5 4 3 2 1…_

He caught a glimpse of red hair and he moved. Mickey quickly grabbed the unsuspecting EMT’s arm before grabbing the front of his t-shirt and slamming him into the brick wall. 

He should have raised his other fist and started bashing Gallagher’s face in. That fist should have had his brass knuckles on it instead of them still resting in his pant’s pocket. And he sure as shit shouldn’t have let his eyes lingered on the fucker’s face after watching him wince. 

Then he might have had time to react as Gallagher shifted his weight. Ian quickly dislodged Mickey’s hand and had his own hand twisted in the Milkovich’s shirt as he pushed him into the opposite wall of the alley. There went his element of surprise. 

“Mick-”

Mickey landed a solid hit to Gallagher’s stomach causing the redhead to fall forward. The Milkovich wasn’t expecting him to recover so quickly and return a similar hit in kind. He really should have brought a gun, or at least a fucking crowbar. 

“Mickey st– **_omph”_ **

Mickey landed another hit to Gallagher’s side, only to once again be grabbed and have his back slammed into the brick wall. 

“Are you done?” Ian asked between catching his breath. 

Mickey let himself have only a second to glance at the lips panting so close to his face before he shoved Gallagher off of him and swung again. This time the redhead didn’t let the hit land. He twisted Mickey’s arm with some fancy fucking fighting shit, dodging Mickey’s kick just before moving forward again to pin the Milkovich against the wall. 

_Damn, Gallagher had moves._

Mickey opened his mouth to catch his breath, readying to head butt the fucker only for Ian to lean forward. Both men seemed caught as they waited for the other to make a move.

Time slowed down as Mickey felt the hands in his shirt shift from pinning him into the wall to pulling him in. His own hands grasped at Gallagher’s shirt, ready to shove the man off, but instead they mimicked the EMT’s movements pulling his body even closer. Ian was now using every inch of his body to press Mickey into the brick wall, their hands trapped between them.

Mickey watched as Gallagher’s eyes flicked between his own and his mouth, slowly leaning closer as their breath started to mingle. He should be stopping this. He should be shoving the fucker off him, instead gazing at Ian’s lips as well. 

The back door to the coffee shop swung open with a creek. Both men quickly shoved each other away as their heads swung to see Kenny walking out with several bags of trash. The idiot didn’t even notice the two standing a few feet away, as he bobbed his head to whatever was playing in his headphones. 

Ian watched frozen as the barista quickly threw the bags into the dumpster before heading back inside, not once turning around to face the other side of the alley. He let out a sigh of relief with a chuckle as the back door slammed shut. Yet, as he turned back to look at Mickey he was nowhere to be seen.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day! can you tell this isolation thing is driving me crazy yet? Anyway hope you enjoy!

Ian should have guessed Mickey would disappear after their run-in in the alley. It had been a little over a week and not once had the thug come into the coffee shop. Every 24 hours that passed Ian berated himself a little more for not planting one on the Milkovich. He couldn't get the look on Mickey’s face out of his head. How the will to fight had seemed to just slowly slip into something else as Mickey actually pulled him in closer while staring at his mouth. 

If fucking Kenny hadn’t interrupted them... 

But it was another look that was keeping him up at night. When Mickey had first grabbed him and slammed him against the wall he hadn’t looked turned on or even pissed off. No, each time Mickey rallied himself into throwing another punch he had looked scared. What Ian had said had fucking scared him and that was the last thing the redhead wanted to do. 

He needed to let Mickey know he would keep his mouth shut, but with no way of tracking the man down Ian was at a loss. For all he knew Mickey wouldn’t ever show his face in the coffee shop again. 

Ian let out an aggravated sigh before taking a sip of his drink. 

“Ya good?”

Ian nodded while attempting to force a smile. Sam only raised her eyebrow at him while slowly shifting the frame in her grip. 

“Cool, then give me a hand.”

Ian stood up only to have the frame dumped into his arms as Sam started to move the empty tables away from the wall. Ian glanced down and quickly noticed the familiar sketchy style. 

“This one of Mickey’s?”

“Yep, the owner sent it off to some fancy framing place that I’m sure he’ll cringe at, but it makes it really pop right?”

Ian only nodded in response as he took in the simple brass frame. Black board surrounded the last of the three pieces Mickey had done for the shop. This one was quite a bit larger than the other two and it was damn good. The grey pencil work had huge range in contrast as Mickey had made sure that every bit of the broken down buildings texture was evident. It was like the viewer was standing on one of the roof tops staring over the rest that were littered with graffiti, trash, and bullet holes. 

Before he could finish taking in all the detail Sam was taking it off his hands and hanging it on the wall. As she backed up, making sure it was hung straight, Ian stood next to her. He took in the entirety of the piece until he spotted a figure way in the background in the upper right corner. It was entirely shaded, but if you looked close enough it was definitely a man holding up a gun. The profile of the figure was strangely close to that of Mickey himself. Ian had spent months blatantly staring at the man trying to commit his face to memory, but he doubted anyone other than him would be able to tell. 

Ian might be mistaken, but he was pretty sure he knew where this was. 

“Such a weird signature isn’t it?”

“What?”

“ ‘Fucked for Life’ he puts it in everything” Sam stated as she pointed to the bottom of the piece. Ian quickly spots some of the trash spelling out a rough version of ‘fucked for life’ in the lower right corner. 

“See, same as here,” Sam moves to push up her sleeve, letting the EMT get a good look at her tattoo. Ian took in the Chicago skyline and found the windows spelling out the same thing in one of the smaller buildings inked into her skin. 

“Huh” 

“Yeah, it's in the other two as well, Kenny’s piece is the same thing. Kind of like a weird little where’s Waldo,” Sam stated with a shrug before moving to put the tables back where they belonged. Ian could only focus on the figure in the background of the piece though, as he quickly cleared his table and headed out the door. 

***

Finding the group of abandoned buildings wasn’t that hard, but Ian had to climb a few before finding the one Mickey must have used as a reference. As he stood on the roof Ian took in every detail Mickey must have taken in before. There was some new graffiti on one of the walls and a bit more trash was definitely there, but the likeness was still quite uncanny. The redhead was surprised this area hadn’t been turned into new buildings yet by all the new money coming into the neighborhood. Though he guessed buying houses from down on their luck families was easier than tearing down a bunch of buildings. 

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

It was like Mickey’s sketch was a secret map just for Ian. Looking to his right, sure enough, there stood Mickey Milkovich with his gun aimed at some unknown target. Ian quickly made his way down the building and headed over to the other, listening to make sure the gun shots continued. He turned the corner after climbing the last set of stairs and finally saw Mickey’s back.

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

**_Bang_ **

As the Milkovich unloaded a full round on the target on the other end of the room, Ian finally had the thought that maybe approaching the man while he had a gun in his hand wasn’t the best idea. But in for a penny in for a pound right? Better to speak up now before he reloaded. 

“Hey.”

Mickey’s whole body froze before slowly turning around to stare wide eyed at Ian. The redhead walked a little closer, shrugging his shoulders with his hands shoved in pockets. 

“The fuck?”

“Followed the gun shots,” Ian replied although he was sure that wasn’t the only thing Mickey’s comment was directed at. Being reminded of the weapon in his hand Mickey lifted it, but not pointing it at anything in particular, before raising his eyebrows at Ian.

“That seemed like a good idea to you?”

Ian let the question linger between them before he moved to lean against a wall a little closer to Mickey. 

“Needed to talk to you,” Ian replied, watching the man in front of him shift his weight before biting his lip. Mickey flexed his fingers around the fire arm in his hand before nodding at Ian to continue. “I’m not gunna say shit.”

“Then why the fuck are you here?”

“I mean about what I saw at the Fairy Tale.”

And just like that every muscle in Mickey’s body is tense and that same fearful look is filling his eyes. Ian wants to kiss that look away, but he’s nowhere near close enough and too afraid to try while Mickey’s holding a gun. So he tries to remind Mickey instead. 

“And about what happened in the alley…” 

Ian lets his words trail off as his gaze lingers over Mickey’s chest and arms. He lets them fall all the way to his crotch before finally looking back up at his face. Some of the tension has left Mickey’s shoulders and he’s back to biting his lip, which is definitely doing it for Ian. 

“You mean how I kicked your ass?”

Ian huffs out a laugh before he can stop himself, but his fear at his own reaction quickly evaporates as he watches Mickey’s eyes hesitantly trail over him. Ian can’t help but puff out his chest a bit as he crosses his arms. Mickey could look at him like that any time he wanted. 

“Pretty sure it was the other way around.” Ian replied with a smirk. 

“Yeah, sure thing tough guy,” Mickey snarks back as he rolls his eyes, before letting them roam over Ian once again. It gives the redhead the confidence to push away from the wall with his next suggestion. 

“Could always solve it with round two or…” Ian offered with a shrug as he moved closer, his eyes glued to Mickey’s mouth. “just pick up where we left off.” 

Mickey isn’t backing up. He just watches as Ian gets even closer, his eyes blatantly trailing over Gallagher’s body. Ian is more than grateful for his lack of self preservation at the moment, because if he thought Mickey subtly checking him out would get his heart pounding he was unprepared for Mickey eye-fucking him. He is only standing half a foot away when Mickey finally replies. 

“Hmmmm pretty sure I thought your shoulder’s were wider.” 

It’s a teasing tone but Ian still freezes in place waiting for the other foot to drop. Mickey’s just staring him in the eye, with no expression for once. As the minutes tick on Ian’s starting to wonder if he’s about to get pistol whipped, till Mickey lets a smirk pull at his face as he raises his eyebrows. 

Ian chuckles, nodding “Yeah okay, I deserved that”. As he looks back up he notices how Mickey has moved even closer, with only a few inches now separating them.

**_Beep Beep_ **

Mickey’s expression switches quickly to aggravation and Ian can’t help but agree as the Milkovich pulls his phone out of his pocket. Ian wants nothing more than take the phone out of Mickey’s hand and chuck it across the room, but he patiently waits for-

“Gotta go.”

Not that. 

He’s trying to think of something to make Mickey stay, but the dark haired man is already gathering up his remaining ammo, reloading his gun, and quickly tucking it back into his jeans. Ian is coming up with nothing just standing frozen as Mickey heads for the stairs. 

“So we're good?” 

The words leave his mouth so fast Ian barely realizes he’s said them. Still he turns to see Mickey hesitating by the stairs. 

“Yeah man, we’re good.” 

And just like that he’s gone again. 


	12. Chapter 12

**“** What the fuck?”

Tired of dealing with stupid shit was becoming Mickey’s permanent state of being. Dealing with Collin’s fuck ups all weekend long was one thing, having another two shit-head’s not pay up was another, but coming into the one place he could get some fucking peace only to see his sketch in some dumb ass gold frame was too fucking much. 

“Ah come on man, I think it looks great!” Kenny offers with both his hands propped on his hips and his head tilted like an idiot. Mickey hasn’t exactly forgiven the fucker for interrupting him last week either. 

“You did this gold shit?” 

Kenny shrinks at the question and the venom behind it, before Sam comes to his rescue. 

“1 It’s brass, 2 it’s boss’s orders, and 3 you really think we’d let Kenny pick what goes on the walls?” She hollers over her shoulder while continuing to make drinks.

“Hey!”

Mickey just shakes his head, heading over to his usual table. They could pretend whatever they wanted. That frame was fucking gold.

“Seriously man, it’s nice! All official, like a museum.” Kenny offers as he places a cup on Mickey’s table. Mickey just flips him off. 

If he got to scam a few idiots who liked his scribbles for some reason that was fine, but museum? Apparently Kenny was several IQ points lower than Mickey originally thought. Thankfully the barista moved on to another task, leaving Mickey in peace as he pulled out his paper and pencil. 

Mickey freezes as he notices the sketch shoved in between the other pieces of paper. He’d been thinking about Gallagher leaning against that wall all weekend long, and eventually caved into scribbling the memory down. He also may or may not have jacked off to it a few times. Gallagher tracking him down a few days ago had been more than a bit of a shock, though Mickey would be lying if said he hadn’t loved every minute of it. All except for that damn text from his Dad that had to cut it all short. 

Mickey let him a small smile pull at his mouth as he took in his version Ian smirking back at him when a thought occurred to him. He looked up at the gold framed piece and back down at the sketch in his hands as he put two and two together. Had Gallagher tracked him down using his own fucking sketch? While Mickey was in the middle of deciding whether that was a good or bad thing, the bell above the coffee shop door announced the redhead’s presence. 

Mickey quickly hid his sketch of Gallagher underneath the other pieces of paper. Once he was satisfied that it was well out of sight of the nosey fucker, he grabbed his cup of coffee to take a sip. Being as subtle as he could Mickey glanced towards the counter. Gallagher was in his full EMT get up, minus the thick winter coat much to Mickey’s gratification. Without it he could take in the full width of Red’s shoulders (which were that fucking wide thank you very fucking much). 

The brunette was sipping his coffee far too long as he noticed Gallagher standing just a little bit straighter as he finished up placing his order. The redhead shifted his attention over to his corner of the coffeeshop, his green eyes landed on Mickey for only a second before shifting back to focus on Sam handing him back his card. 

The stupid ass grin on his face was plain as day. He knew Mickey was watching him. To think it was only a week ago Mickey was about to bash the shit out of that fucking face. Mickey finally looked away, suppressing his own smirk as he attempted to focus on paper in front of him, waiting for the redhead to take his usual seat. 

It's only a couple of minutes later when he’s distracted by the fucker whistling of all things.

Mickey looks up, only to see Ian standing a few feet away and taking in the sketch in the dumb ass gold frame, like he’s seeing it for the first time. 

“It looks good Mick.”

Mickey just glares at him. Ian’s not subtle appreciation has as a few other patrons turning to look at the framed piece as well. Can’t he just sit the fuck down? 

“I think this one's my favorite so far,” Gallagher praises. The smirk on his face reveals that it’s more the memories the sketch is brining up than the piece itself that is the cause. 

Yep, the fuck definitely used the stupid thing to track him down. 

“See! I told you it looks great!” Kenny calls out as he hands Ian his drink, but he turns around so quickly he doesn’t catch Mickey’s annoyed glare. Without Kenny to focus his annoyance on that just left Gallagher, and apparently a few other nosey fucks who for some reason were staring at him as well. 

This is why he didn’t want anyone to know he made the stupid things. What was worse was all the attention wasn’t just on him. It was on both him and Gallagher. As the redhead moved closer to his table Mickey knew it didn’t look suspicious, but that didn’t stop the questions filling up his head.

How many other times had this happened? How many times had he been a fucking idiot and didn’t notice all the fucking attention on him with the good looking fuck distracting him? 

Mickey can feel Ian’s eyes on him as he continues to stare at the blank page on in front of him. It was different a few days ago. They had been alone. Alone and safe from prying eyes and big mouths. Mickey can still feel the pressure of Gallagher’s eyes so he glances over and sees the redhead taking him in. 

He’s just smiling at him. 

Mickey knew what to do with the looks the EMT was giving him last week. That was the shit that led to a fantastic fuck, and unlike his last attempt at getting laid Mickey was pretty sure Ian would know what to do. But this looks isn’t that… well it’s not just that. That smile is paired with the fuck’s eyes that keep drifting to look at Mickey’s mouth and arms. 

Fuck, how long have they been just staring at each other?

Mickey’s worries are interrupted by a sharp voice coming from Gallagher’s radio. The EMT answers it quickly before giving Mickey an apologetic smile. The Milkovich just raises his eyebrows in response, ignoring the sinking disappointment gathering in his stomach. As the bell above the coffeeshop door rings to Mickey forces himself to keep his eyes on the blank paper in front of him. 

***

It’s over a cup of coffee in his own shity apartment that Mickey tries to figure out a fucking plan. For the last two weeks it seems like he is always just passing Gallagher by. Mickey is learning to hate that fucking EMT uniform as the redhead never seems to sit down when he’s wearing it. The only time he had seen Ian without it is the one fucking day his family decides to let everything go to shit and then call him to clean it up. 

He’s back to blue balls and shit luck, and he needed to find away to put a stop to it. 

Though how exactly they would find time to fuck, if Gallagher and him actually were both at the coffeeshop for more than a few minutes, Mickey hadn’t quite figured out yet. It’s not like they could sneak off to the shop’s bathroom. The thing was fucking tiny and anything happening in there could be heard through out half the place. It was one of the main reasons Mickey chose to sit on the other side of the shop. 

The alley was out as well. The last thing he fucking wanted was for dumb ass Kenny to waltz out there for a smoke break and catch him bent over the fucking dumpster. Mickey groaned in frustration as he took a gulp of much needed caffeine. Fuck it he needed to get laid tonight.

He abandons his half finished cup of coffee to throw on some clothes before heading out the door. If he is gunna think himself in circles might as well do it at the damn coffeeshop, then if Gallagher pops in for his usual two fucking seconds Mickey can tell him to meet him tonight at the abandon buildings if he wants to get his dick sucked. 

When he get’s to coffeeshop it’s already packed with people, so much so Mickey is back to clearing his usual table of supplies. At least everyone seems more interested in their own shit. The fuckers typing away on their laptops or scrolling through their phones, and only a few tables are occupied by more than one person. Gallagher isn’t any of them. 

Mickey sighs as he pulls out his shit. He glares at his own sketches as he realizes how many he has done of the redhead lately. It seems like any time his pencil hits paper the lines just easily morph into the dumb fuck who isn’t fucking him. Mickey shakes his head as a cup of coffee is placed on his table, he downs it within a few minutes. 

As the hours drag on Mickey is on his fifth cup of the day while scraping his tenth attempt at drawing something other than a hot piece of shit who is nowhere to be seen. The Milkovich stares down at paper currently in front of him as he realizes one of the homeless crack heads is looking too familiar, even with just half of the face drawn out. He can feel his hands starting to shake and he definitely has to take a piss. 

Mickey usually wouldn’t leave his shit unattended. Coffeeshop or not too many south side fucks might try and steal his bag, but with how his luck was going getting to beat the shit out of some thief would be worth it. He leaves his many sketches scattered over the table as he throws his pencil down in frustration before making his way to the bathroom. 

He closes the door behind him and already his shoulder is hitting the wall as he gets his dick out. Mickey looks behind him before shaking his head as he tries to imagine any position that would work, only to hear Kenny taking someones order outside. Nope, no fucking in bathroom was gunna happen. As he finishes washing up his hands he resolves to just give up on today with is hands shaking even as he drys them. 

There are more customers waiting in line when Mickey opens the door, but with no red hair in sight his last hope for the day turning around is extinguished. He doesn’t even sit back down as he moves to gather his papers. That is till he notices the sketch on the top. The one of the homeless crack heads is no longer resting in plain view instead it's the sketch he had done of Ian weeks ago. Mickey remembered it being in the stack, but he had definitely shuffled it to the back earlier that morning and hadn’t moved it since. 

Mickey picked up the paper, his eyes narrowing in on the newly added arrow next to sketch Gallagher’s face with the small note accompanying it. 

_ Don’t think I’m this tall _

It was the phone number underneath that that actually turned Mickey’s day around. 


	13. Chapter 13

Ian really needed to stop doing this shit. 

In the last several months he had basically become a stalker. His boundaries were disappearing by the minute whenever he encountered Mickey Milkovich. Staring at him for months was one thing, getting small bits of information from his ignorant sister was another. It was whole entire other realm of stupid to accidentally suggest that he might out Mickey, to then track the man down via his drawing, and then after not running into him for while to go through his things and leave his number on the Milkovich’s sketch. 

Really, how had Mickey not punched him in the face yet?

Well… actually he had tried that one time. 

Ian had tried his best to ignore his phone after he left the coffee shop with little success. Thankfully there were no patients in need of his full attention and at the end of the day his phone could remain glued to his hand the whole way home. He climbed the stairs to the old Gallagher front porch before sitting down and quickly remembering to check the windows for lights before opening his messages. 

These days, with all their busy lives, it was near impossible to tell which of his siblings might be lingering about. If they were though, it would only take Ian acting twitchy for half a second before the nosey questions would start up. If Ian’s luck was complete shit Lip would be the one inside, waiting to read Ian’s mind and tell him all the ways he was a fucking idiot. 

Though maybe he was an idiot as he stared down at his phone that still had no messages. 

Mickey was interested in him, wasn’t he? He had felt that same pull in the alley and again in the abandoned building, right? Ian hadn’t imagined the way his blue as fuck eyes lingered over his body. Mickey HAD bit his lip before raising his eyebrows with a playful smirk. The Milkovich was into it ... into him ... right?

Ian continued to sit on the porch as the sun went down, twirling his phone in his hand as he waited. Why the fuck was he acting like this? It was like he was 15 and getting to make out with a guy for the first time. The obsession with sex his hormone had rained down on him back then was understandable, but this? 

If he gave his mind more than ten seconds of idle time and his thoughts would always drift to the stocky brunette. He’d think about his arms, his eyes, his jet black hair, the millions of emotions he could convey with just his fucking eyebrows, his cutting wit, his amazing talent with just a fucking pencil and paper, and of course his glorious ass. 

**_Bing_ **

8:42 PM  
 _You’re a nosey piece of shit. You know that right?_

Ian froze as he read the words over and over. It was from an unknown number. He couldn’t be sure, but…

8:45  
 _and yes, you are that fucking tall, asshole. What, you never looked in a Goddamn mirror?_

Ian couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face as he quickly got to typing his response. 

8:46   
Oh, I know. But I’m not the one drawing someone over and over.  
You're gunna make me self conscious pretty soon here Mick. 

His phone was quickly becoming the only source of light left, but Ian remained sitting on the porch while waiting for a response. 

8:50   
_Fuck Off.  
_ _Like you don’t know what you look like._

Did Mickey Milkovich just admit he found him attractive?

8:51   
You’re still taking artistic liberties. 

I didn’t knock that guy's teeth out of his head. 

8:53  
 _Eh, you wanted to. If that fuck had landed that kick, you would have laid him out._

8:54   
He wouldn’t have landed it. 

8:55  
 _Yeah, okay tough guy.  
_ _I’ll remember that next time I think about saving your ass._

Ian laughed as he silently admitted to Mickey’s assessment. The fucker definitely would have landed that hit with how distracted Ian had been by Mickey’s suddenly showing up. 

8:56  
 _The fuck started that shit anyway?_

8:57  
The pervert grabbed Sam’s ass. The first time she spun around and told him to get the fuck out, The idiot went for it again.   
She smashed a plate over his head.   
He got belligerent after that so I escorted him out of the building. 

9:01  
 _You mean you threw his ass out the door._

9:04  
Well, the official police report says Kenny was the one who threw his ass out.   
Which was collaborated by several witnesses.   
and I wasn’t the one that kicked his ribs in. 

9:05  
 _Pretty sure those witnesses didn’t see me do shit._

9:07  
Of course not. That was all Kenny.   
Who was acting in self defense. 

9:09  
 _Ha, well I guess that idiot is good for somethin_

9:10  
Oh come on, Kenny’s not that bad 

9:13  
 _We dealing with the same dumbass here?_

9:14  
He’s just a little scatterbrained   
And you’re just holding a grudge. 

9:15  
 _When the fuck can’t keep his mouth shut about weird ass frames, yeah I hold a grudge_

9:16   
I meant that he interrupted us 

Ian watched as the minutes ticked on as the nerves gathered in his stomach. With no response he sighed as he pulled himself up and went inside. The house was quiet, thankfully, and with no one to stop him he headed straight to his room. 

**Bing**

9:35  
 _You mean how he interrupted me kicking your ass_

Ian didn’t know whether to groan in frustration or just sigh in relief, though his fingers were moving regardless of his reaction. 

9:36  
Pretty sure it was decided that I was kicking Your ass 

9:39  
 _All that was decided was that we needed a round two  
_ _If you’re up for it_

Ian wasn’t prepared for the address that followed in the text two minutes later, but he was definitely up for everything that it meant.

9:42  
I’ll be there in 30

  
  


***

Mickey was pacing his kitchen once again as he waited for his phone to let him know of Gallagher’s arrival. 

This was the fucking longest 30 mins of his life. 

The minute he had gotten the response he wanted to take it back, only to put the phone down and quickly run into the bedroom to kick all his clothes into at least one corner. His place was a shit hole. Not as bad as the house he grew up in, but still a shit hole. Anyway Gallagher was coming over to fuck, not to goddamn view his apartment. So he was back in the kitchen, pacing. 

Fuck!

There was only one other time that Mickey had taken a guy back to his place. Fucker turned out to be a semi decent lay, but a fucking cryer. The last thing he needed was some whiney bitch crying outside his unit while the neighbors listened in. That was over a year ago now, but still this place was Mickey’s one safe spot. 

No one else had been inside since. No one even knew his fucking address, not his bitch of an ex wife, not his Dad, and not his brothers.

He should just tell Gallagher to meet him at the buildings like he originally planned. 

But the fucker already has his address now, probably was downstairs already, and fucking in a bed was definitely something Mickey missed. Gallagher was south side. He wouldn’t be a whiny bitch when Mickey kicked him out after he came, but any guy seen leaving his place could still be suspicious. The fuck was he taking this risk just ‘cause he had a boner for this fucker?

**Bing**

10:11  
 _I’m downstairs_

Fuck


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is a lovely gift this fine Sunday, cause after this shit is definitely gunna get awkward.

Mickey bit his lip as he opened the front door to his building. The whole way down the stairs he had repeated over and over that this better be the best fucking fuck of his life. Now, standing face to face with Gallagher all his thoughts came to a grinding halt. 

The redhead was oozing confidence as he stood to the right of the door. The EMT uniform was replaced with a henley and simple pair of jeans and fuck did Mickey appreciate it. It was the same shit as back at the abandoned buildings. Gallagher’s stupid green eyes were just raking over him as he stood a little straighter. 

Mickey didn’t say a word as Ian followed him inside, but he could feel the fuck right at his back. Gallagher was half a step behind him the whole way to the third floor. The Milkovich tried his best to stare straight ahead, but as he got to his front door he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder. Gallagher only smirked, stepping even closer so Mickey could feel all the heat radiating off his body. 

Mickey opened the door and half sprinted inside. He needed a bit of distance so he could gather his thoughts. This should be easy enough. Mickey knew the drill, layout the ground rules and get to the fucking good part, easy peasy. He turned around, ready to make sure the redhead knew what was what, only to be met with Gallagher’s chest and to lose his train of thought. 

“So, this is your place?”

Mickey raised his eyebrows as he took a step back, only to have Gallagher follow him with a step of his own. 

“No, it’s the fucking Taj Mahal.” 

Mickey took another step back and Ian another forward.

“It’s nice.”

“It’s a piece of shit.” 

Ian chuckled as he gazed over Mickey’s body and Mickey again took another step back so he wouldn’t have to crane his neck up to glare at the stupidly tall bastard. 

“Well I’ve seen-”

“You wanna chit chat more or do you wanna get on me?” 

Ian’s grin took over his face as he stood just a half a step away from the dark haired man. 

“Then come here Mick.”

Mickey opened his mouth to tell the fucker that ‘the bedroom was fucking that way’, only to feel the redhead’s lips press against his own. Gallagher’s hand was already tangled in his shirt pulling him closer while the other wrapped around the back of his head. 

Mickey didn’t kiss. This was supposed to be a quick fuck that would finally get this piece of shit out of his system. But his hands were already pulling at Gallagher’s shirt and his tongue was pushing back into the redhead’s mouth. 

When Mickey felt Ian’s hand release his shirt he instinctively latched on to the taller man’s bottom lip before pulling him in closer. The Milkovich could feel the soft puffs of air from Ian’s chuckle, which would have pissed him off if not for the fact that Gallagher’s absent hand was now firmly grabbing his ass. It took only another pull for Mickey’s crotch to be pressed right up against Ian’s leg. 

Fuck, He hadn’t gotten hard this fast since he was a fucking teenager. From the feel of it Gallagher was feeling the same. 

Mickey gave up on his idea to shove the idiot off to get things back on track. He let himself indulge in the amazing fucking feel of Ian’s tongue attacking his own. Gallagher’s hands were encouraging him with a squeeze every time he rolled his hips against his leg. No one was going to chance upon them. No one was going to burst in. He could take his time getting fucked for once and Gallagher was definitely someone he wanted to take his time with. 

Mickey pulled back from Gallagher’s mouth, catching his breath for a few seconds. He gave Ian’s neck a quick squeeze before lightly pushing the redhead away as he went in for another kiss. He stepped around the taller man and moved to lock the front door only to have Gallagher grab his shoulder to spin him around. Pinned to his front door, this time Mickey let the kiss land as he chuckled at the man’s insistence. 

“Scuse me for not wanting to get robbed while I’m getting boned.” 

Gallagher lifted his head in confusion before looking to his left and quickly dead bolting the door and sliding the chain in place. Mickey watched in amusement as Gallagher nodded in satisfaction before turning his attention back to Mickey. 

“Better?”

“Eh, bedroom’s that way Red.” 

Ian turned to look over his shoulder, but didn’t move any of his weight off of Mickey as he shrugged. 

“We’ll get there eventually,” and with that Ian Gallagher dropped to his knees. His finger’s worked quickly to undo Mickey’s jeans as Mickey just watched, wide eyed. Gallagher released Mickey’s cock from the confines of his boxers, and wasting no time grabbed him at the base before taking the head into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Mickey gasped. He let his head roll back to rest against the door for just a second. Ian’s mouth was engulfing him slowly inch by inch. He tried to roll his hips, but the redhead’s other hand was pressing his hips firmly against the door. 

Once Mickey looked back down he caught sight of the green eyes watching him. His gaze flickered between Gallagher’s eyes and his red hair, his fist clenched at his side. It only took watching Ian hollow out his cheeks for Mickey to give in. His hand darted into the red strands, grabbing them firmly as he listened to Gallagher have the fucking nerve to laugh with his cock in his mouth. 

Mickey started to pant as, regardless of anything he did, Gallagher kept at the same pace. He bobbed his head lazily watching Mickey the entire time. It didn’t matter if Mickey pressed on his head or tried to thrust his hips, seems Gallagher was a fucking tease even when Mickey finally had his hands on him. 

“Come on man,” Mickey panted out, trying once again, but to no avail, to get Ian to let go of his hips. Instead the redhead pulled back entirely, letting Mickey’s cock fall from his mouth. But before Mickey could grumble a complaint his mouth was occupied once again by Gallagher’s tongue. 

He was letting this fucker kiss him after sucking his dick all while inside his apartment. Mickey was breaking every one of his carefully made rules. Yet as he kissed Ian back he couldn’t seem to find a reason to care. 

Ian let go of Mickey’s hip and grabbed his shirt, pulling him away from the door. Mickey half tripped over his pants and boxers, now left on the floor, as he followed. Now half naked, and remembering the use of his hands, Mickey got to work pulling Gallagher’s shirt off in between sucking on Ian’s bottom lip. 

They passed the door way into Mickey’s bedroom before the brunette pulled his own shirt off. As he paused to watch Gallagher strip away his own pants Mickey worries began to creep back in. This was a bad idea. He didn’t know why but it was. Some how this was going to fuck him over. 

He shook his head as he turned away and walked over to his night stand. As his hand found the lube in the back of the drawer Mickey froze at the feeling of lips on his neck. Mickey closed his eyes as his attention narrowed onto Gallagher's hands grabbing his ass. They rested there only for a moment before trailing to his stomach, to his chest and flicking his nipples, before resting once against his hips. Ian pulled Mickey flush against his body and continued to make a mess of his neck. 

The Milkovich could feel every inch of Ian’s cock pressed against his ass and damn was the fucker packing. Mickey pressed his lips together as tight as he could to suppress the moan as the redhead’s hands made their way to his balls. 

“Fuck, Mick” Ian half groaned. 

The sound of his name, coming out of that mouth like that, was just too fucking much. He nudged Gallagher back as he turned to get on the bed on all fours, before throwing the bottle of lube to the side. When he didn’t feel the bed shift with the redhead’s weight he quickly snapped, 

“Get the fuck over here.” 

Ian huffed but grabbed the bottle of lube as he got into position behind Mickey. At the sound of the cap popping open Mickey spread his legs a little wider. He twitched at the feeling of Ian’s hand once again resting on his hip. He was about to yell at the fucker to hurry up to cover his reaction, only to press his lips firmly together as Ian slid the first finger into his ass. It took only few tries for the fuck to find that perfect spot inside him and Mickey back to panting. The stretch of two fingers and then three had his dick twitching more than he would ever admit. But it wasn’t fucking enough. 

“Gallagher!” 

Again the piece of shit was laughing at him as he withdrew his fingers. Mickey gripped the blanket underneath his hands as he felt the mattress shift just slightly with Ian getting into position. Mickey listened closely to the sound of Ian tearing open a condom before adjusting his knees on the mattress. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Mickey groaned as Ian slowly slid his cock inside. He pushed slowly inching in bit by bit as Mickey stretched around him. Gallagher’s cock just kept fucking coming and no matter how hard he tried Mickey couldn’t suppress another groan when the redhead bottomed out. He was so fucking full. This, this is what he had been fucking craving for months. 

“Goddamn Mickey, you’re so tight.” 

No talking during sex. Another rule out the window. Another thing to add to the list of things Mickey Milkovich couldn’t give less than a shit about as long as Ian Gallagher is inside him. 

“Fucking move,” He groaned out and Ian quickly obliged. 

The pace was fucking prefect, just the right side of punishing that felt so fucking good. His dick was bobbing and pulsing in time with each of Gallagher’s thrust. Mickey didn’t even notice the slight shift with each thrust until Ian hit that spot. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

Mickey’s hand lifted off the bed, but before he could reach his cock Ian’s hand left his hip to grab his wrist and slam it back onto the mattress. Gallagher didn’t change his pace at all as he slid his hand over the back of Mickey’s and interlaced their fingers. Mickey starred at the hand wrapped around his, Gallagher’s fingers separating each letter of FUCK tattooed on his hand. Ian’s chest met his back and his panting filled Mickey’s ears. 

“Harder,” Mickey panted between moans “Fuck me harder.”

Gallagher quickly complied with a moan of his own, snapping his hips at a brutal pace as he gripped Mickey's hand. It took only a few more seconds for Mickey’s vision to go white as it all came crashing down on him. He could barely hold on to consciousness as he felt the pulse of Ian releasing inside of him.

He should move. He should throw on his boxers and kick the redhead out. He should hold on to that last rule, but with all the tension absent from his muscles and the comforting weight of the man laying on his back Mickey just closed his eyes. 

He could kick Gallagher out in the morning. 


	15. Chapter 15

The one window in his bedroom was just letting a bit of light into the room as Mickey blinked himself awake. Even being barely awake Mickey could tell something was definitely off. He’s laying in the middle of the bed in some odd tangle of the blanket that’s barely covering his body. He’s naked and has a dull ache in his ass. He tallies up a few other weird things as he rubs his eyes, like the fact that his phone is laying on top of his folded clothes on the nightstand. 

Mickey grabs his phone only to groan at the 6:15 glaring back at him. He would have fallen back on to his bed and given into sleep if it wasn’t for the random noises coming from the other room and the faint smell of coffee. The brunette pulled himself out of bed and threw on his boxers as the sounds continued. 

“The fuck are you doing?”

Ian turned around with a grimace at the sight of Mickey standing in the kitchen doorway, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Ian shrugged his shoulders as he looked between Mickey and the gurgling coffee machine as if that answered the question for him. 

“Shit, was trying not to wake you.” 

Mickey just raised his eyebrow when the redhead went back to attempting to locate Mickey’s coffee cups. It was far too early for this shit. 

He shoved Gallagher out of the way as he reached up to open the corner cabinet. He grabbed two cups, shoving one into the redhead’s chest as he set his own on the counter. Mickey couldn’t shake the small bit of disappointment as he registered that Gallagher was fully clothed. 

“Thanks.” Ian said with a hesitant smile as Mickey poured the coffee into his cup before filling his own. 

The Milkovich shuffled his feet as he settled in against the counter. He took a quick sip of his coffee as he slowly realized that he was the only one half dressed, a fact that Gallagher didn’t seem to take much notice of. His eyes, instead of taking their fill of Mickey, were locked on to the floor. 

“I have to be at work in an hour so…” The redhead trailed off though he didn’t move from his position. 

Mickey didn’t even acknowledge the statement as the reality of what was happening started to click. Gallagher had been trying to sneak out. He had wanted to grab a cup of coffee and quietly slip out the door all before Mickey even opened his eyes. 

What was the worst part was that should be exactly what Mickey wanted. Didn’t he plan to kick the dumb ass out as soon as he had woken up? But now faced with the reality of it all in the morning Mickey couldn’t help the disappointment of not even getting the option of a lazy morning fuck. 

The fuck was going on with him? 

Oblivious to the brunette's inner turmoil Ian sipped at his coffee while trying his best to keep his eyes on the stocky man’s face. Mickey was gripping the counter with an overly firm grip as he leaned against it. His cup was curled almost protectively against his chest in between sips. His gaze was still roaming over Ian, but it was all hesitant and guarded. 

Ian wanted to kiss him, but Mickey was giving no sign that it would be welcomed. So he just shifted his weight as he sipped at his own coffee, waiting for Mickey to give him any sort of clue of what to do. 

Last night was good, so fucking good, so why was this so damn awkward? Ian took another large gulp as his eyes met Mickey’s for a moment, only for the brunette to quickly look away. Was Mickey just waiting for him to leave? Ian had at least another 20 mins before he had to head out, and fuck maybe if he had just stayed in the bed they’d be mid way through good morning sex right now instead of barely being able to look at each other. 

Ian shifted around slightly, running through every option he could think of. No way the Milkovich would pass up another chance for a good fuck right? He had basically cum so hard he passed out immediately after.

“So, guess this was a booty call huh?”

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian's words before pushing away from the counter. 

“Whatever, see ya.” 

The redhead could only watch in confusion as Mickey headed back into his bedroom without another word. 

***

It’s 24 hours later. Not like Ian had been counting or anything. Not like he’d been checking his phone like clock work for any text from Mickey. No, he was totally playing this cool. 

The solid 10 hour shift at least had kept him distracted, but as the sun rose again and Ian woke to no notifications on his phone, he started to realize he was a little more into the Milkovich than he originally thought. 

There was no denying how hot Mickey was, but finally getting to taste what he had been day dreaming about for the last couple of months should have scratched that itch. He was past the point of letting guys treat him like shit or being their dirty little secrets. Sure, the sex was amazing, but Mickey hadn’t even walked him to the fucking door. This was a clear one night only situation. So why can’t Ian get him out of his head.

**Beep Beep Beep**

_ “He wants me to meet his fucking parents.”  _

Ian turned the phone away from his mouth so he could hide the disappointed sigh as he listened to Mandy rant on the other end. 

_ “Like me, to meet his church going mother and his step dad who is a fucking accountant. Like, what the fuck?” _

“Mandy, it’s been almost nine months.”

_ “So? The fuck does that matter? _ ”

“When was the last time you slept at your place?”

“ _ That has nothing to do with this.” _

“Hmmm hot sex, you basically live with him, takes you on reoccurring dates with all the stops, buys you things, hasn’t cheated… pretty sure this is all adding up to meeting the parents.”

_ “The fuck for? I don’t get it! Why do they fucking matter? He doesn’t live with them. They don’t pay for any of his shit. Why do they get to fucking judge if I’m skank or not when I don’t own a dress some bible thumper would like?” _

“He wants you to wear a certain dress?”

_ “No, his dumb ass thinks my clothes are fine, which is part of the fucking problem!” _

“Mandy, it'll be fine. If they’re judgmental then they don’t know what they are fucking missing.”

_ “Sure, by some fucking miracle they’ll be decent people and then be expecting a fucking invite to the Milkvoich 4th July party. So either way I’m fucked.” _

Oh, so that was the issue. 

“Well, if Mickey keeps checking in maybe meeting just one brother would be enough.”

He barely gets the name past his lips. He wonders what Mandy really knows about Mickey. Ian’s been wondering for the last few months and even allowed his curiosity to let himself ask a few prying questions. Nothing too obvious, though he knew a couple of times that Mandy had been a bit suspicious. He never really had been that great at playing it cool. 

“Psh, Yeah please meet the least shitty of my brothers, high school drop out, amazingly has only been to jail once, married a hooker, and runs drugs and guns with they rest of my fuck up family.”

It’s like he’s been hit by a truck. 

Ian just sits in stunned silence as he takes in the rest of Mandy’s ranting. Married? Mickey is fucking married? To a hooker? He tried to remember anything that would have tipped him off. He hadn’t seen any evidence of a wife in Mickey’s apartment. He hadn’t seen anything, though he had been a bit distracted. Fuck, did Mickey hide it all away? Mandy herself said they barely spoke whenever he called to check in. Maybe she’d gotten it wrong.

“Wait, your brother’s married?”

_ “Oh yeah! Not like the fucker invited me to the wedding. Dumbass didn’t even tell me, Iggy actually fucking called a few days ago and let it slip. No idea for how long either, but apparently it's been a bit. Honestly, over him and Mickey he might be the better choice. Least then I can convince the goody goods he’s just a pothead.” _

Ian let his friend continue to rant as he quickly gathered his things. He shouldn’t be going there. He should just let this all fucking drop. He had promised himself he’d never let himself become some hidden away thing ever again. It was a one night stand, none of this should fucking matter, but Ian was already out the door and heading towards the coffee shop. 

***

Mickey was fucking antsy. He could feel his fingers twitching constantly at his side as he headed down the sidewalk. He should be fucking relaxed. He had just gotten laid less than 48 hours ago. He should be fucking fine. 

He can’t get the image of Gallagher standing in his kitchen out of his head. The look on his face as Mickey had walked passed him to go back into his room had spelled it out plain. Up until that moment Mickey had sworn the fucker was trying to sneak out, but the fucking disappointment pouring out of those dumb ass puppy eyes had quickly proven him wrong. He should have said something else, something that would have gotten Gallagher back in bed, but no. 

Mickey barreled his way into the coffee shop as he let his mind run circles around Ian Gallagher, only to freeze in place at the sight of the redhead casually sitting at his usual table. The EMT isn’t looking up, got his head buried into whatever the fuck is on his phone, so he doesn’t notice the Milkovich right away. Mickey allows himself a quick grin as he takes in the man while making his way to the table next to him. 

Gallagher seems preoccupied even though he’s not wearing his uniform. He doesn’t notice when Sam set’s a cup of coffee on Mickey’s usual table as she passes by. He doesn’t notice Mickey pulling out his chair. It isn’t until Mickey is sitting down that The redhead’s whole body jumps at the sound of him settling in. Maybe he fucking shouldn’t push his luck, but Mickey laughs at the wide eyed look that takes over the man’s face as he realizes who is sitting next to him. 

“Bit jumpy there Gallagher, might wanna lay off the fucking lattes.” 

Ian just blinks at him with his mouth gaping slightly. It’s only for a few moments and Mickey can’t help but be reminded of how that mouth was stretched around his cock not that long ago. He grabs his own coffee cup as Gallagher seems to gather himself, but now the fuck is staring very intently at his hands. 

Those green eyes track every movement of his left hand as he takes a sip and slowly sets down his cup. Mickey even taps his fingers on the table for a moment, his confusion growing as Gallagher seemed to let out a sigh of relief?

“You, good?”

Then those green eyes are back on Mickey’s face. Unlike in Mickey’s kitchen he’s back to openly staring and Mickey will never admit it, but twitchy tension has left his body. 

“Hey, Mick.” 

Gallagher’s voice is a bit rough and too fucking close to how it had been a few night’s ago. Mickey can feel pants getting tighter with just the memory of those hands on his hips, of how his tongue had felt, how good his cock was. Mickey turned to grab his bag to pull out some paper and pencil, anything to distract himself, but he hasn’t brought any paper or pencil. He had been in too much of a rush to get here; he had only grabbed the necessities. 

With nothing else to do he took another sip of coffee and glanced at Gallagher out of the corner of his eye. The redhead hadn’t taken his eyes off him. That had to be a good sign, right? 

“You work today?” Mickey asked as he set his cup back down on the table. Ian's eyes narrowed at the question before hesitantly shaking his head. Yet, even as they narrowed in it seemed the redhead couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over the rest of Milkovich's body. 

“No…”

“Good.” 

And with that Mickey downed the rest of his coffee and pulled out a few bills to leave on the table. He couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his mouth as he kept eye contact with the still confused redhead. As Mickey walked out the door of the coffee shop he didn't look back, but he did pull out his phone and shot off a quick message, just in case. 

*******

**7:05 AM  
** _ You coming or what? _

Ian just looked between his phone and the door Mickey had walked through a few seconds ago. He shouldn’t fucking follow him. Just because he hadn’t seen a ring doesn’t mean the wife didn’t exist. No matter how good the sex was, it wasn’t worth being some dirty secret, but as he stared at the text on his phone Ian couldn’t convince himself to stay seated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your many wonderful kudos and comments. Writing this has been a great escape from all the crazy in the world at the moment and all your lovely encouragement make it that much sweeter!
> 
> Enjoy!

Mickey started to second guess himself as he headed back to his apartment, that is until the redhead came around the corner just as he was unlocking the door to his building. It was the same as the other night, with Gallagher silently right at his back the whole way to his front door. Mickey walked quickly, not wanting to push the man away, but also hyper aware any of his neighbors could walk out and see them together. 

The minute he closed his front door though it seemed all bets were off. No sooner than the deadbolt clicked into place were Mickey’s hands underneath Ian’s shirt, desperately pulling the offending fabric away from the freckled skin underneath. It was as if the Milkovich’s touch reignited the spark that was the redhead’s confidence. Ian chuckled as Mickey’s hands continued to tug at his shirt, before assisting the man and pulling it over his head.

Ian’s shirt hit the floor and the redhead quickly moved forward. Mickey watched, his heart pounding, as he realized Gallagher was going in for a kiss. He had told himself the excess shit from the other night was just a fluke. He had let himself indulge sure, but that shit had to end if he was going to make fucking Gallagher a regular thing. Kissing was too damn risky. His mind raced a mile a minute as he felt the redhead’s breath hit his lips. He need to shove the fucker off, turn his head, fucking drop to his knees, anything to make sure Gallagher knew what the point of him being here was. 

Instead, Mickey just opened his mouth as Ian latched onto his bottom lip. He let the redhead wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him in as their tongues met between their locked mouths. They both tasted like coffee and cigarettes and neither of them cared. Gallagher bit at Mickey’s lip, pulling on it for a second before easing the pain with his tongue as he shoved his left hand down Mickey’s jeans. He was already hard as a rock. 

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

He’s going to kill them. Whoever the fuck is texting him is gunna end up thrown out of a goddamn window.

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

Mickey groans as he pulls away for a second, fully planning to chuck his phone at the wall, only to have his face grabbed as Gallagher shoves his tongue down his throat with a whole other level of enthusiasm. 

“Don’t answer it.” Ian lets out, between heavy breaths.

Mickey just nods, leaning in again as he wraps his own hand around the back of Gallagher’s neck. He guides them, refusing to pull away from Ian's tongue, to his bedroom, both of them losing the rest of their clothes along the way. Just before Gallagher’s legs hit the edge of the bed, the redhead grabs hold of Mickey’s hips, switching their positions and throwing him onto the mattress. 

“The Fuc-” 

Mickey’s protests died as Ian quickly joined him and occupied his mouth with his own. His hands wandered lazily over the brunette’s body, his thumb toying with his nipples, brushing past down his ribs, and finally moving to wrap around Mickey’s cock. 

Mickey can feel his heart trying to break through his chest as Ian pulls back. Gallagher’s side is still pressed firmly against Mickey, with his leg thrown over the stocky man’s knee as he continues to stroke him. Mickey can’t take the look in Ian’s eyes as he watches his face. No one’s ever watched him like this. He never had the chance to take his fucking time with anyone before. It was always rushed. Just get off and get out as quick as possible so no one could catch him. No one would see him and know. Even the other night with Gallagher was rushed, both of them too horny to really take their time and the lights had been out. He hadn’t really been able to see the fucker in all his glory. 

But now it’s fucking day time. The light of the mid morning sun is coming through Mickey’s half opened blinds and it’s showing off all the tones of red in Gallagher’s hair. Mickey can clearly see every line of muscle flexing in his arm, as he slowly works his cock and Gallagher can clearly see him too. Those green eyes are gazing over his body and staring too long at his fucking face.

Mickey reaches up and grabs the back of the man’s neck to pull him down for another kiss. It’s already all too much, so why the fuck not? Plus, as hot as the kissing actually fucking is, this way he doesn’t have to deal with those fucking eyes. But Ian doesn’t allow it for more than a few seconds. He hovers over Mickey’s mouth at the same time as he rubs a thumb over the head of his cock. 

Then suddenly Mickey can’t feel Gallagher at all and he is forced to open his eyes. He tries to get his breathing under control as he watches the redhead rummage through the bedside drawer for the lube. 

“Condom?” Ian asks as he pops open the bottle cap. 

“Uhh,” Mickey stutters. He doesn’t keep them in here, never had a reason to. Actually where the fuck did Gallagher get the one from the other night? Ian ignores his lack of an answer and just turns to grab his own pants thrown haphazardly on the floor and shake a condom out of his pockets. 

“Fuckin' boy scout, huh?”

The redhead just shrugs his shoulders and throws the condom to the side of the bed. As Ian starts to coat his fingers Mickey hesitates. If he had been just a few years younger he undoubtedly wouldn’t have even let Gallagher into his place, let alone consider the thought that was flitting through his mind. He was in his own apartment that was fucking locked. No one was gunna see, no one other than Gallagher. 

But the nerves still overtake him and Mickey starts to turn over and get into position, only for a firm hand to grab his hip and shove him back on to his back. This time Mickey doesn’t have a word of protest, but who would with pink lips like that wrapped around their cock? His tattoo fingers quickly bury themselves into red hair as Ian slowly bobs his head, twisting his tongue around Mickey’s length. With Ian’s eyes closed Mickey lets himself watch the man bob up and down, sucking a bit harder every time he pulls back. He doesn’t stop moving his mouth as he moves Mickey’s thighs a bit wider, getting comfortable. 

“Oh fuck!” 

Green eyes are back on him as Mickey lets out another moan as he feels the lubed up finger push all the way into him. His cock is so full. There is no way he’s going to last if Gallagher wont stop doing that thing with his tongue. He gives a quick pull to the red strands in his fingers, but that only causes Ian to moan around his dick, and fuck if that’s not going to send him over the edge by itself. 

“I’m gunn-” 

Mickey loses the rest of his words as Gallagher takes him all the way down his throat. He comes hard and fuck if it is not fucking great to feel Gallagher’s throat milk him of every thing he’s got. Mickey barely registers Ian swallowing his load before pulling off to mouth at his thighs. 

His right hand is resting on Gallagher’s head as he catches his breath. He can feel Ian’s mouth slowly adding suction as he mouths at his thigh. Gallagher’s finger’s haven’t stopped stretching him either. Mickey doesn't remember when the fucker got up to two, but he’s ever so slowly pumping them in and out of Mickey’s hole. 

Mickey pushes himself up onto his elbows, watching Ian as he continues to bite and suck on his thigh. He’s going to have a bruise there. No marks. It’s another rule out the fucking window, but no ones gunna see his fucking thighs and it feels too good to make Gallagher stop. So many of his fucking boundaries just obliterated all because of this alien looking fucker and his stupid damn mouth. 

“Fuck, Mickey you got me so hard.” 

Mickey has no idea what to say to that, but thankfully Gallagher takes that moment to add a third finger. The redhead pulls back just enough to watch his finger’s disappear into Mickey’s wanting hole. Watching Gallagher watch that part of him was almost too much. All of this was almost too much, but fuck if Mickey didn’t want every bit of it. 

And he was in his own apartment and the fucking door was locked. 

His dick is already starting to get hard again and Mickey wonders if he can get Gallagher to take him like this, on his back. He had never felt the urge to try this position before, but getting to watch the redhead’s face, getting to kiss him while cock stretched him open… Fuck, he wanted it, but would Gallagher? Maybe if he just…

“Get on me.” Mickey demanded as he reached down to grab hold of Ians arm, pulling him upward. Ian moved willingly, locking lips with the Milkovich as his fingers slipped out of his hole. The kiss only lasted for a moment before Ian was pulling away to grab the condom. Mickey’s legs were spread wide around Gallagher’s hips as he finally got a good look at what the redhead was packing. He had known he was huge, but Jesus fuck. Mickey was captivated as he watched Ian spreading the condom and then more lube over his length, slowly stroking himself. 

“You like that Mick?”

His eyes shot up to Ian’s face ready to tell him to fuck off, but the green eyes were blown the fuck out and his lips were swollen and still slicked with spit. 

Fuck.

“Yeah…” Mickey hesitantly let out as he watched Ian’s hand continue up and down his cock. “Yeah, just…” 

Gallagher apparently didn’t need any more encouragement, pushing Mickey’s legs wider with one hand while lining his dick up with the other. The stretch was perfect as he sunk in, even slower than the other night. Mickey closed his eyes as he just took it all in. The thick cock slowly filling him, every moan coming out of Gallagher’s mouth, it was just too damn good. Both men gasped for breath once Ian was fully seated.

Mickey didn’t think he could get any fuller till Gallagher hitched his legs higher on his hips, pressing their chests together as he sunk in another inch.

“Fuck!”

“You good?”

“Yeah, Yeah just … fucking move.” 

And Gallagher did with none of the hesitance of the last time. He slammed into Mickey as he held the rest of his body tight. Mickey can feel each pant of Gallagher’s breath against his face as his cock pounded into him, but he doesn’t dare open his eyes. It all felt too fucking good. Ian’s hands are gripping the flesh of his ass, pulling him on his cock as much as he is thrusting in. It’s a hard brutal pace and just so fucking perfect. 

“Mick, tell me you're close.”

The Milkovich can only nod his head in response. With Gallagher hitting that fucking spot the moment he sunk into him and the friction of his cock between their abdomins, Mickey was more than close. 

“I’m close, fuck don’t stop Gallagher, fuck.” 

And then they’re tumbling over the edge. First Mickey and then, with only a few more thrust, Ian follows, collapsing on top of the shorter man. As Mickey slowly comes back to reality he’s grateful for the slight chill in the spring air cooling his skin, and not making it too hot that Gallagher would immediately roll off him. Instead the redhead is nuzzling into his neck … and is the fucker smelling him?

“Did you just fucking smell me?”

Ian lifts his head lazily to meet Mickey gaze with a hesitant smile. 

“Maybe,” he drawls out before rolling off of Mickey and jumping off the bed. The Milkovich watches quietly, wondering where the fucker was going. Without the redhead’s body heat the cum on Mickey’s stomach and the cool sweat makes the brunette shiver. He’s about to just grab the corner of the blanket to wipe it off (not like he hasn’t done it before) when Ian reappears with washcloth. Gallagher hesitantly holds it out as his eyes dart around the bedroom. 

Mickey wants the fucker to get back in the bed, but he is just standing there looking anywhere but at the Milkovich as he wipes down his stomach and chest. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Mickey finally asks as Ian just continues to stand at the edge of the bed. The question brings the green eyes back to him so jerks his head, hoping the redhead will get the fucking hint, but still he doesn’t move.

“You married?”

The fuck did that come from? Mickey just narrows his eyes as he stares the redhead down. 

“The fuck?”

“Just, you know making sure no ones gunna burst through the door wanting to bash my head in.” 

Oh, well Mickey can’t really fault him for that, not when he had been reminding himself every few minutes that no one was gunna do that very thing. He could just say no. It was true enough, but staring at the way Ian was nervously pressing his lips together Mickey felt more of the truth bubbling out of his chest. 

“Divorced.” 

Gallagher eyes grew wide at the admission and Mickey can’t help but be encouraged by all the tension leaving the redhead’s body. 

“Bitch doesn’t even know where I live so..” He trails off with a shrug, but Ian’s already climbing back on to the bed and settling next to him once again. 

Mickey’s surprised how easy this is. He keeps expecting to freeze up, to do the wrong thing and end up pushing Gallagher away. Instead it was like the closer Ian was the more relaxed he became. He didn’t jerk away as the man slid his arm underneath his head and threw his leg over his hip. If anything he was grateful for the body heat and even found his own hand lightly grazing the skin on Gallagher’s stomach. 

“Sooo you’re bi?”

“Pft no.” 

He already knew Gallagher was a nosey fucker, really he shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe if he had been asked that question a few years ago he might have pulled back. Maybe even thrown a punch, but now…

“Nah I’m gay man, incase that wasn’t fuckin’ obvious” 

The feeling of Ian’s chuckle reverberating through his chest and lightly shaking Micky’s arm has him holding back one of his own. Instead he keeps quiet, not sure if that is the last of the man’s questions or if Mickey would even want to answer them. Ian’s already nuzzling in closer, pressing his nose against the Milkovich’s neck once again. Mickey jerks his head back as he realizes what is happening.

“Are you smelling me again?”

“Why, gotta problem with it?”

Mickey just blinks at the playful smirk directed his way, but as the silence stretches on he can see the confidence disappear out of those green eyes. 

“Probably smell like shit, man,” is all he can think to say. 

“Hmm, not to me.” 

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

Mickey lets out a groan at the sound of his phone ringing through the apartment. He feels Gallagher press himself closer, but knows this time he has to answer the fucking thing, hot redhead in his bed or not. He lightly pats Ian’s shoulder as he pushes himself off the bed. 

“The fuck are my boxers?”

“Hallway.”

Mickey nods his thanks only to freeze as Gallagher stretches his arms over his head and arches his back in a long stretch. 

**BEEP BEEP BEEP**

“Jesus Christ, I’m fucking coming.” 

“Pretty sure you already did, twice!” Ian calls after him. Mickey won’t dare laugh at the idiot’s joke, but he can’t help the smirk pulling at his face. Mickey follows the trail of his clothes to his discarded pants where his phone was ringing away.

Six missed calls. All of them from his Dad. Shit. 

“Yeah,” Mickey answers, already cringing at the incoming yell. 

“The FUCK have you been?”

“Busy...it’s not even fucking noon.” 

“Oh! well while your pansy ass has been ‘busy’ Fucking Jamie got picked up. I thought you said the shipment was made two nights ago!” 

Fuck! Jamie had said everything was fine, and sure Mickey usually would double checked it all himself, but then Gallagher had actually texted him back…

“He said he had it handled.”

“Well now he’s looking at three years minimum and there’s too much heat to pick up the fucking next one!” 

“We can still pick it up, just gotta be fucking careful-”

“You think these fuckers know anything about fucking careful? That’s why I have you checking in on this shit!”

Mickey is rubbing his forehead as he hears footsteps coming out of the bedroom. Ian’s only got his boxers as he tilts his head in concern. There is no way he can’t hear the yelling coming out of his phone.

“I’ll get it done Pops, shit won’t leave my sight, alright.” 

“Better not, or it’s your ass on the fucking line!”

His Dad hangs up and just like that his life is back to shit. Mickey let the phone drop to his side with a groan as he rubs his face. He jumps a near foot at the feeling of hands attempting to wrap around his waist. Gallagher is standing next to him now, hands raised up in surrender as he watches Mickey closely. 

“You gotta go,” 

“Okay.” 

“I got shit to do man, I can’t have you fucking distracting me.” 

The words are tumbling out of his mouth so quickly. Ian’s already grabbing the rest of his clothes off the floor and pulling them on, and all Mickey can do is watch, hating every second of it. After slipping on his shoes the redhead approaches the Milkovich again, only for Mickey to step back, shaking his head. 

“You need to go.” 

Gallagher pauses with a sigh before nodding his head, walking past Mickey without another glance. Mickey wants to reach out. He wants to pull the man in for at least one more kiss, make sure Gallagher knows it’s not fucking him, it is just Mickey’s fucked up life, but he can’t. So the door shuts and he’s left in silence. 


	17. Chapter 17

“Ian?”

“Hmm?” Ian shook himself out of his thoughts to look up at his brother. Carl is staring at him across the kitchen counter with a cereal box in his hand. 

“You want a bowl?”

“Oh, no I’m good.”

This isn’t the first time Ian is grateful for his older brother’s absence. Carl just shrugs his shoulders. Lip would be grilling him like no other with all his mopey behavior (though Ian would never admit to it being mopey) His younger siblings asked but knew better than to pry too much. He can see Carl hesitating before leaving the kitchen, like he’s got questions, but know if it is worth it to ask. Ian just watches him as he sits at the counter.

“You sure you’re good?”

“What’d you mean?”

“Just seem off is all.” 

Ian nodded his head with a small smile. Carl doesn’t have to ask but he knows the question is there. Are you taking your meds? Is this a bipolar thing? But Carl is Carl and he’d never outright ask. 

“Just a guy thing.” 

“Guy your fucking?”

Ian nods though he’s not sure if he should be phrasing it as ‘guy he fucked’ He hasn’t heard from Mickey in four days and hasn’t seen him at the coffee shop either. 

“He a douche or somethin’?”

“Bit of an asshole.”

“But you like assholes.” 

Ian huffs a laugh at that. “Not this kind.”

“Sex any good?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic.” 

“Then he’ll stop being a bitch when he gets horny, same as any dude.” and with that sage advice, Carl headed up the stairs, leaving Ian to his thoughts. 

Ian was starting to realize that might be the problem. There was no denying he was into Mickey, spending any time with the man was great, but while he thought he could have a simple fuck buddy system thing going on, Ian was slowly realizing how attached he was getting. A fuck buddy wouldn’t constantly be in his thoughts. A fuck buddy kicking him out of his apartment cause something important came up wouldn’t have made Ian batt an eye. A fuck buddy not saying a fucking word after kicking him out wouldn’t even pop up on his radar. 

Mickey doing all of the above was tearing him to pieces. Ian let out an aggravated sigh as he opened his messages rereading the only ones Mickey had sent before. He was acting like a teenage girl. Mickey Milkovich was surrounded by fucking red flags telling Ian his infatuation was pointless regardless of how hot the sex was. 

Though it seemed that Mickey had already decided for him with his disappearance. The redhead wasn’t about to go banging down his apartment door just to get the man’s attention. He had Ian’s number and He was the one who acted like an ass. 

**Bing**

9:36 AM   
_ Hey _

Ian’s heart leapt into his throat as he took in the letters on his screen. Hey? Just hey? The fuck was he suppose to say to that?

9:38  
_ Look the other day  
_ _ Just had too much family shit to deal with  
_ _ Ya know? _

Ian watched each as each text came through, trying his absolute best to keep his hands off the keys as that little ‘…’ symbol kept appearing and disappearing. It hadn’t taken him too long to figure out Mickey sometimes needed a moment as he decided on his words. Sometimes they came pouring out of him so fast Ian couldn’t barely keep up, but other times...

9:44  
_ Shouldn’t have taken it out on you   
_ _ Didn’t want to _

He can almost picture Mickey’s face as he’s typing. It's probably the same face he had made when he had assured Ian he was divorced. There was definitely more of a story there, and between that screaming phone call and what Ian could remember of Terry Milkovich from back in the day, he’d bet serious money that Mickey’s Dad had something to do with it. 

_ 9:45  
Sorry _

9:45  
Don’t worry about it.  
You can make it up to me later ;)

This is fucking trouble. He knows it is, but Ian can’t help the smile splitting across his face. 

9:46  
_ What do you got in mind? _

_ 9:47  
_ You free tonight?

As he hits send Ian throws all caution to wind, red flags be damned. 

_ 9:48  
_ _ Still got family shit to wrap up tonight.   
_ _ But I’m at Jina’s now. _

_ 9:49  
_ _ Jina’s? _

_ 9:50  
_ _ Coffee shop  
_ _ Two servers one’s decent the other’s a dipshit.   
_ _ Owner’s dumb enough to name a place after herself and pay some fucker to put his scribbles on the walls.  _

_ 9:51  
_ _ Ohhh that place  
_ _ Is it really called Jina’s? _

_ 9:52  
_ _ You serious?  
_ _ Shit’s painted on the windows  
_ _ the menus  
_ _ On the fucking front door.  _

_ 9:54  
_ _ Never noticed  
_ _ Guess I was too distracted by the hot artist sitting inside _

_ 9:56  
_ _ Fuck off _

_ *** _

Why does every fucked up thing that Mickey settles have to be replaced by another? Figuring out everything his cousin had fucked up had taken more than a couple of days, but after Mickey wraps it all up with the buyer tonight his dad should finally be off his back for a while. He had been right about how much heat there was. Mickey felt like every time he turned around another pig was walking around the corner, just waiting to bust him. After this last round they’d have to lay low on the guns at least for a few months. 

So with that shit resolved he moved on to Gallagher. Mickey caved and texted the man after the fucker didn’t show his face at the coffee shop for a few days. Granted, Mickey hadn’t been able to stop in during his usual times, but he still usually was able to catch the redhead between his shifts. That fucking puppy look of a disappointed Ian Gallagher was going to cause him more trouble for sure, but Mickey couldn’t deny the relief flooding through his system when he finally got a text back. 

Now he had to deal with crazy ass coffee shop owners who wouldn't take no for an answer. 

“Surely, one of your lovely landscapes would work well?”

“You want me to draw a bunch of shitty buildings on the side of another shity building?”

“Well, I guess that would be too on the nose, maybe a portrait then?”

Mickey rubbed his face in frustration as Jina continued to list off possibilities of what could go on the newly revealed side of the building. They had finished demolition on the building next door months ago, and finally, instead of putting something new in, decided a parking lot for the growing local businesses was fucking necessary. Now, for some reason, this crazy bitch wanted the his fucking scribbles on the whole side of the fucking building.

“Jina, how the hell am I supposed to draw on brick with a damn pencil?”

“Oh, so you don’t have any experience with spray paint as a medium?”

“Eh, He definitely knows his way around a can of spray paint, right Mick?”

He fucking missed that voice, though Mickey would never admit it, especially now that it was doing nothing but digging him into deeper shit. Mickey leaned to the side to glare at Gallagher as the fucker had the nerve to smirk at him while making his way over to his table. 

“Oh, you’ve seen his other work?”

There is no way any of this ends without a fucking headache. Gallagher only grins wider as he turns to talk to Jina, though Mickey can tell Ian’s keep him in his line of sight. 

“Oh yeah, his typography stuff definitely grabs your attention.”

Typo-fucking-what? 

But now Jina’s beaming at him and Gallagher look’s like the fucking cat who got the cream as he raises his eyebrows.

It is then that Mickey remembers being sixteen with a red spray paint can in his hand. He remembers his idiot brothers not understanding why he picked the building that was in between the old Gallagher house and the Kash and Grab and the satisfaction he had felt when he had tried to think of how terrified Gallagher would be reading the giant red letters. 

_ ‘IAN GALLAGHER IS A DEADMAN!’ _

No, he was a fucking smug piece of shit is what he was. Was this Mickey’s fucking pay back for being a dick last week?

“A typography and portrait combination would be wonderful!” 

“Not gunna happen,” Mickey spat. He’d get Gallagher back the way he originally planned, on his knees, not with this stupid artist intervention shit. 

“What about for 3 grand?”

Mickey’s head shoots up with his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. Gallagher is just as wide eyed as he is. No way she’s serious. 

“3,500,” He throws back. If Jina’s playing this game then he’s going for it.

“Deal! I’ll expect some sketch ideas in about a week.” 

Mickey just blinks after the woman as she bounces away, happy as can be. How the fuck did he keep underestimating how much money these rich fucks would just throw away? $3,500 dollars to spray some shit on a wall? He turns to look at Gallagher to share in his disbelief at what just fucking happened, but the redhead just grins at him

“So, what’re you gunna draw?” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a bit since the last update so here is just some goodness. Hope you all enjoy!

Ian groggily woke up at the sound of his alarm, before quickly grabbing his phone off the floor where it had fallen out of his discarded pants, his eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The sun has just barely lit up the sky, but Mickey’s bedroom window must face east for it to be this bright already. 

Huh. Mickey’s bedroom window faces east. 

Ian cataloged that little fact away, into the back of his mind, as he pulled on his boxers. As he looked around the room the redheaded man couldn’t help but smirk at the mess of clothes laying on the floor. There were shirts half hanging out of the dresser that was against the opposite wall of the bed. The top of the dresser was covered in loose pieces of paper, accompanied by a packet of cigarettes and blue lighter. Ian, unable to help himself, picked up a few of the pieces of paper, only to frown at their lack of sketch work before setting them back down. 

Mickey’s bedroom window faces east, he’s a messy piece of shit, and apparently an early riser?

Ian threw on his boxers and made his way out to the living room to find his jacket where his meds had been stashed in a pocket. The sounds of shuffling footsteps and something scraping caught Ian’s attention as he spotted his jacket thrown over the back of Mickey’s couch. The soft sounds continued coming out of the kitchen as Ian quietly grabbed his pills out of their respective containers and held them, as subtly as he could, in the palm of his hand. As he popped his head around the corner, the smell of a sizzling breakfast filled his nose. Mickey, standing over the stove, looked up as the redhead hesitantly moved through the kitchen doorway.

“You good sleepy face?” The brunette asked with his eyebrows raised, before continuing to scrap the eggs from the pan. Ian raised his own eyebrows at both the nickname and the fact that there were two plates that Mickey was dishing the scramble eggs out on. Plates that also had sausage and toast. 

Ian had half expected to be kicked out as soon as he was conscious. He had been over at Mickey’s at least three times this week, but with two late shifts he hadn’t had the chance to stick around and find out in morning sex was an option, let alone Mickey making him eggs in just boxers and t-shirt. 

East facing window, rather messy, likes nicknames, makes eggs, definitely gay, definitely into Ian. 

Ian added that last item to the list as Mickey faced him once again, raking his blue eyes down the Gallagher’s half naked body.

“Lose your shirt?”

Ian shrugged as he stepped forward. “Was hoping I wouldn’t need it.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh as he shoved a plate of eggs into Ian’s stomach. The redhead took the chance, as Mickey stepped around him, to shove the pills in his mouth and grabbed the second coffee cup Mickey hadn’t picked up off the counter. 

Mickey’s kitchen table barely sat two. The two chairs surrounding it didn’t match and it was all clearly taken off the side of the road like the rest of the furniture in the tiny place. But it all brought a grin to his face. Ian could count the many times he’d venture into a new boyfriends place and immediately feel like he couldn’t touch anything. It would take him months to relax and get used to all the random things they would complain about, like a little chip of paint that was easily fixed. It was always that shit that got to him. But here he could just pull out the chair and sit next to Mickey without worrying about any of that. It was just like the Gallagher house. It was just easy. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” 

Ian just shook his head, failing to wipe his grin off his face. Both men dug into their breakfast for a few minutes before Gallagher couldn’t let the silence linger. 

“You always get up this early?”

“Fuck no,” Mickey huffed, “Forgot to put my phone on silent and my sister decided calling at the ass crack of dawn is fucking necessary.” 

Ian laughed as he shoved another bite of eggs into his mouth. He had gotten plenty of calls from Mandy just like that, whenever she forgot about the two hour time difference. 

“She doing good?” Ian asked hesitantly. 

He watched as Mickey rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. Did Mickey know he talked to Mandy every week? She hadn’t known he had gotten married or even divorced. Did she know he was gay? Did Mickey even know they were still friends? 

“Bitch wants me to fly to New York and meet the shit head pounding her this week,” Mickey spits out. Every bit of his tone stating how ridiculous he thinks the idea is. 

“You don’t want to?

Ian is trying his hardest not to smile again at how expressive Mickey is. With one eyebrow raised and his hand waving the redhead off, Mickey doesn’t have to say a word to convey everything he thinks is stupid about what Ian just said. 

“What if he’s taking advantage of her?”

“She’s a fuckin' Milkovich. My sister can handle herself.” 

“Uh huh, so I was just a special beat down then?” Ian asked with a grin as Mickey chuckles. 

“Fuck off beat down, I couldn’t even find your slippery ass before Mandy called me off.”

As he said the words it was like Ian could witness the question that had probably annoyed Mickey for years resurface in his mind. Blue eyes locked on the redhead before narrowing down as the Milkovich took another sip of his coffee. 

“The fuck did she do that for any way?

Ian shrugged, suddenly very interested in the few bites still left on his plate.

“Tracked her down ...uh just explained it wasn’t what she thought.” 

Mickey set his cup down on the table, “What’d she think?”

“She just jumped on me one night… and fuck it’s not… it’s not like I could fuckin' perform,” The redhead stuttered out, gesturing to his crotch, unable to make contact with Mickey’s steady blue eyes. “ So… so I tracked her down and told her I was gay. Proved it to her and everything so–”

“What’d you mean you proved it to her?”

“Well…” Ian could barely get the words out and he knew his whole fucking body at this point must be as red as his hair. “ ...I just grabbed her boob kind of… and had her hold my dick so… when I didn’t get hard it was obvious I guess…” 

Mickey just blinked at the man sitting across from him before bursting out laughing. Ian let out a huge sigh, but when the brunette couldn’t seem to calm himself Ian moved to kick him under the table. 

“The fuck Gallagher?” Mickey asked as he continued laughing. 

“It was all I could think of! You had already beat the shit out of Lip! I was desperate, okay!”

“What if she started rubbing, you think there’d be no fucking reaction?”

“Eh, not possible.” 

“Fuck off! Friction is friction, you shut your eyes, you can at least get shit up and going.” 

“Nope, Lip already tried that shit when I came out to him. Had his girlfriend blow me under her kitchen table and just... nothing.” 

And Mickey was laughing again, “He fucking what? What’d he do, call his bitch and say she needed to double check this shit?”

Ian just shrugged. It was fucking ridiculous. 

“Who the fuck was he dating?”

“Karen Jackson.” 

Mickey just shook his head, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair. Ian looked him over, taking in every bit of the smiling relaxed Mickey, and committed it to his memory. 

“Friction all it take to get you going, Mick?”

“Eh, if the bitch was quiet and I could paste some broad shoulders on the back of my eyelids,” Mickey shrugged before continuing, “A warm mouth is a warm mouth.” 

Ian raised his eyebrows at that. He thought back to the night before and every other time they had fooled around. Mickey had kept his eyes open as far as he could remember, but…

Mickey scrunched his face in confusion as Ian rose from his seat. Blue eyes immediately started grazing over the redhead’s body before looking up at Ian's face as he turned Mickey’s chair. With Mickey’s legs no longer under the table the redhead nudged the brunette’s knees apart so he could stand between them. Blue eyes were glued to his cock, that was already standing at half mast before Mickey had so much as touched him.

“Doesn’t look like you need much of anything to get going,” Mickey snarked as he licked his lips. 

Ian could just pull his boxers down and pull Mickey’s head forward. Maybe the Milkovich would even let him fuck his mouth, but Ian had something to prove so that would have to wait for another time. 

“Seems I just needed the right Milkovich.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes and Ian dropped to his knees and started tugging at Mickey’s boxers off. Ian locked eyes with Mickey as he started to stroke the man firmly while gently rubbing his thigh with his other hand. Mickey stared back with the same intensity and some confusion. He opened his mouth, undoubtedly to ask when Ian quickly spoke instead. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” 

“Man, that’s not–”

“The whole time, Mick. I want you to watch me.”

Ian’s tone left no room for debate so Mickey just nodded. His blue eyes remained locked with the green staring up at him as Gallagher slowly started to lick long stripes up the back of his cock. Mickey grabbed the side of his chair as he watched that perfect tongue go to work. 

It wasn’t long before the redhead was taking Mickey all the way into his mouth. Ian was slowly bobbing his head as he watched the Milkovich start to pant as his thick cock throbbed against his tongue. Those blue eyes were barely even blinking. 

“Fuck Gallagher..” 

Ian took him a little deeper and swallowed as Mickey started to groan. The Milkovich’s hand left the edge of the chair and pushed back the red locks falling into Ian’s face as he continued sucking Mickey all the way down. Ian was sure that at some point the man’s head would roll back or his eyes would at least flutter when he had let his teeth drag over that thick vein, but Mickey’s eyes were wide open and focused on him. Fuck it was so hot. Ian was so hard with Mickey’s full attention. 

The Milkovich’s fingers tightened on Ian’s hair, pulling his head closer. If Ian could laugh with his mouth full of dick he would. Impatient would be another fact he’d add to the list about Mickey. But Ian was never one not to please so he quickly swallowed Mickey’s cock all the way down as the brunette groaned and twitched, before releasing down his throat. His eyes always locked on Gallagher the entire time. 

As Mickey caught his breath Ian quickly stood, the redhead’s hand wrapping around his own cock. Mickey’s eyes were half open now that he was spent, but he still leaned forward and looked up at Ian expectantly. 

“You want my cock, Mick?”

Mickey only opened his mouth in response and swallowed the man down. He gagged just a bit but his eyes remained locked on the green ones staring down on him. Gallagher was already so close so it probably wouldn’t take much. 

“Fuck Mickey I’m–” and with that Mickey felt it all release down his throat.

They both caught their breath as they finally let their eyes close for a moment. Ian looked down at Mickey all relaxed with a small smile already pulling at his lips. He moved slowly, settling himself as he straddled Mickey’s lap. The brunette opened his eyes just as Ian lowered his mouth to his. The kiss was slow and so perfect as Ian felt Mickey wrapping his arms around the redhead pulling him even closer. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got through this chapter. Don't know why this one was so hard to write, but here it is.

Mickey grunted at whoever was refilling his cup as he glared down at the offending piece of paper in front of him. Half the page was filled with violent scratches all surround something that could be his fists, but instead of his “FUCK U-UP” inked across them it read FUCK LIFE. 

Mickey hated it. He hated everything he drew this past week. He even hated the sketches he had shown Jina when she came poking around. She at least had the curtesy to pretend some had “potential brilliance” whatever the fuck that meant, but none of them she had wanted on the side of the building. 

They were shit, he knew, she knew it, he just couldn’t think of anything else that wouldn’t fucking scream to the whole damn neighborhood the Mickey Milkovich was a fagy artist now. Mickey sighed as he threw his pencil on the table so he could lean his head back and rub his eyes in frustration. 

“Jina, not up to FUCK painted across her building or something?”

Mickey opened his eyes to see Sam standing by his table, staring at the sketch. 

“Nah it’s just-” Mickey jerked as he felt the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He knew who was calling and there was no fucking way he was answering, not after last week. Sam just shrugged her shoulders, catching his attention. 

“You’ll find something you both like, just will probably take a few go throughs.” and with that she was off to man the counter again. She may have been right if it wasn’t for the fact that Mickey was entirely out of ideas. He picked up the pencil to continue shading around the knuckles, still ignoring the buzzing. Why won’t the bitch hang up?

“Hmmm I like your knuckles better.”

Mickey lips twitched a bit, threatening a smile, even though Milkovich didn’t look up from his paper. Instead he flicked Gallagher off in response and listened to the man chuckle as he settled into his usual seat. Finally, his phone fell silent. 

Last week had been the start of their odd routine. Every day they’d meet up at the coffee shop and the three night’s Ian didn’t have a early shift he’d follow Mickey back to his place so they could fuck each other senseless. With half the product being out of commission, till everything cooled off, Mickey hadn’t heard a word from his brothers or his Dad. 

All of his focus could be on experiencing everything the redhead could do once he got him out of his fucking clothes. Mickey was loving every bit of it. This must be what rich people call a vacation. It’d be fucking paradise if he could just figure out what to goddamn draw so he could get his 3,500 bucks. And if Mandy would fucking stop calling. 

It had taken a few days for the worries to start bubbling up. Mickey couldn’t really blame himself for that, Gallagher was fucking distracting. Yet, once the redhead left his apartment slowly the questions would pop up, niggling at the back of his mind. 

Mandy knew Gallagher was gay. Mandy cared enough to fucking ride his ass about making sure he “Never sold any shit to Ian again!” whatever the fuck that meant. He had been cautious with his phone calls with her for a fucking reason. Along with badgering him to come to New York on their last call, the bitch went on a rant for ten minutes about not being invited to his wedding and never mentioning his wife. Ex-wife, he had almost corrected, but hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise. Finding out it was Iggy that let her know about that crazy bitch just confirmed his stance on limited information. Iggy had a big mouth and if they were fucking talking again...

“You free tonight?”

It was barely above a whisper, but the words cut through Mickey’s thoughts with ease. He looked over at Gallagher who was scrolling through his phone. The redhead chanced a playful look at him, raising his eyebrows as if Mickey didn’t get what he meant. 

But Mandy knows about Ian. 

“Can’t.”

The disappointment filling that fucking puppy dog face almost has Mickey change his mind, almost. Ian just nods, turning back to his phone, and fuck... Mickey’s got to give him more than that. 

“Got some shit I need to handle…”

Ian nods with a reassuring smile. Mickey doesn’t need to say anything else… he doesn’t really have anything else, but he knows that Gallagher has long shifts for the rest of the week. He knows this ‘cause Ian likes to babble about his day. It’s all fucking and touching for a few hours, but after Gallagher starts talking. The touching doesn’t really stop either. It just changes into something Mickey isn’t used to. It’s fingers trancing random patterns on his skin, a hand massaging his scalp, a leg thrown over his while Gallagher nuzzles into his shoulder or neck (always fucking smelling him ‘cause he’s a weird piece of shit). All that touching and random babble feels too fucking good. 

Mickey never expected it to feel so fucking good… like the kissing. It’s ‘cause of all that shit that Mickey actually opens his mouth and starts talking too. After that shit in the alley he thought Gallagher would know how to keep his mouth shut… and maybe he did until the right person asked a question. A person like Mandy, who could tell Iggy, and then his vacation would be learning what it felt like to be buried six feet under. 

“Next week then?” Gallagher asks, somehow coming off both eager and confident at the same time. 

Mickey can only nod in response while thinking ‘I fucking hope so.’

***

_ “Wanna pretend to be my brother?” _

“What?”

_ “I’ll pay for your flight to New York and you pretend to be a member of my fucked up family. Been there for me more than those fuckers any way.” _

Ian chuckled as he continued down the street, listening to Mandy complain “I thought you were gunna ask Mickey to come?”

_ “I did! Told him I’d even pay and shit. Ass-face said he’d think about it before he started being a douche.” _

“What’d you mean?”

“ _ He’s dodging my calls. Probably all butt hurt cause I told him I knew about Lana.”  _

“Lana?”

_ “The ex wife.”  _

“Ex wife?”

_ “Yep! fucker got married AND divorced without telling me. Fucking Iggy, I swear he’s got two fucking brain cells left. He can’t remember shit…” _

Ian let out a small laugh as he thought back on the past week. All the times he had heard Mickey’s phone buzzing while they were in bed he had been afraid it was Terry. Apparently it had been a different Milkovich trying to get a hold of Mick. Mandy didn’t know he’d been the one keeping her brother otherwise occupied. 

“Well, Maybe try him again. He was probably just busy.”

_ “Busy or not Iggy has shit for brains.” _

“I meant Mickey.”

_ “Nah, Iggy said they have to lay low on shit for a while. Something about Collin being a dumb ass? I dunno, but they all got nothing to do. Fucker’s definitely avoiding me.” _

“Maybe text him?”

_ “Really would rather you’d just come. Fun, hot, gay brother is waaay better than either of those fucks.”  _

Ian just laughed as he thought how perfectly that could describe Mickey. 

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t call your brother hot, Mands.” 

_ “Whatever, you coming or not?” _

***

_ “Finally Ass-Face!”  _

Mickey rolled his eyes while still tapping his foot repeatedly against the floor. Mandy hadn't stopped calling. It could just be the shit about meeting her new fuck toy. It could, at least that is what he told himself every time he started to reach for his phone to call her back. 

But what if she knew? What if the whole reason she wasn’t fucking backing down was ‘cause her and Gallagher still talked? What if he had let it slip? Mickey needed to know what she knew. Thankfully Mandy was an impatient bitch and saved him the trouble of building up the nerve to call her back. 

“If you need shit handled, call someone else.” 

_ “That’s not why I’m calling shit head! If you picked up the phone for once you’d fucking know that!”  _

“You call just to bitch at me?” Mickey grossed as he tried to settle his leg “‘Cause I got other things to handle right now.” 

_ “Bull shit, Iggy said you're all out of commission for a while. You just don’t want to come to New York!” _

This whole Iggy and Mandy speaking again thing was really starting to get on his nerves. 

“You and Iggy so close why don’t you fucking ask him?”

_ “For fuck sake! Forget it! I’ll just make Ian do it.”  _

And there it is. The minute the words register Mickey feels a rock settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“Gallagher?” He asks and he can’t stop his voice from cracking just a bit. 

_ “Yeah, rather it be my best friend if you're too much of a pussy to make the trip.”  _

Best friend. Not even friend, but a best friend, that would fly to New York and meet her new boyfriend. Fuck. 

“Didn’t know you and fire crotch were that close...”

His heart is pounding and his leg won’t stop shaking. Mandy is quiet on the other side of the line. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

_ “You're not still selling him shit right?” _ Mandy finally asks, but her voice sounds just as hesitant as Mickey’s. The fuck?

“I never sold him shit.” 

_ “Mickey-” _

“He told you I sold him shit?”

_ “Come on, what else would he owe you money for?” _

The fuck kind of story was Gallagher trying to spin?

“I don’t know what the fuck you're talking about.” 

_ “Wait… seriously? Ian never bought from you?” _

“No, wh-”

_ “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that before? I’ve been worried about him, ass hole!” _

Mandy was worried Ian was a junkie? Ian told her he sold him shit? Was that a fucking cover after he slipped up? Mickey hadn’t noticed any signs that Ian used. The fuck Ian?

“You want some lying junkie meeting your fuck buddy?”

_ “Ian’s not a junkie!”  _

“He’s telling you I sold him shit when I fucking didn’t-”

_ “He didn’t say that. He just was acting dodgy and in the past... it’s not my shit to say...And you were the one wanting to know why he was lacking self preservation, Ass hole! You started this!”  _

“Bitch, I didn’t start shit. Just didn’t remember the fucker.” 

“ _ What?” _

“Ran into him a few months ago. He knew my name and I didn’t remember the shit.”

_ “OH MY FUCKING GOD! You just- are you serious!? Ugh, you so owe me. You are coming to New York…” _

Mickey let his sister continue her rant as his heart settled in his chest. He took breath, as the realization of the facts washed over him. Gallagher and his sister were friends and Mandy knew he was gay, but maybe Gallagher could actually keep his mouth shut. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another Chapter! Mandy is gunna find out eventually.... but how to do it that is the question. While I ponder over that I hope you enjoy!

The start of summer was hitting Chicago and Ian Gallagher was done with people’s dumb ass decisions. Every shift he was on involved rushing to help someone after they stuck a firework some place they shouldn’t or got too drunk and fell off their own porch. He was tired, annoyed, sweaty, and worst of all horny. 

It had been over a week since Mickey’s schedule had lined up with his. Ian was practically itching with the need to touch the dark haired man. They had barely even seen each other at the coffee shop and… well it just was nowhere near the same. 

Besides the getting naked part, Mickey just relaxed the minute the deadbolt was locked on his front door. He was always gruff, flippant, and ran his mouth whenever faced with something ridiculous, but there were definitely differences. He wouldn’t get within a foot of Ian let alone touch him. Yeah, the redhead had to start most of the touching even behind closed doors, but once he did it was like he opened the floodgates. That lock would click into place and they would be on each other, leaving a trail of their clothes as they made their way to Mickey’s bed (if they even got that far.)

Ian groaned at the memories, feeling his body starting to react. He shook it off as he turned on the shower and pulled his uniform shirt over his head. As he pulled out his phone from his pants pocket he checked the water temperature, quickly pulling up Mickey’s number. 

**9:03 pm**

You free?

The redhead threw his phone on to the pile of his clothes after hitting send and stepped into the shower. He groaned at the feel of the water hitting his sore muscles. Ian tried his best to ignore his dick as he scrubbed himself down, but with the anticipation of hopefully spending the night at Mickey’s place well... his mind was prone to wander as much as his hands. 

Thankfully, Ian didn’t have to wait long, hearing the buzz of his phone barely muffled by the pile of clothes. He rushed the rest of his shower, and quickly threw a towel around his waist. He barely glanced at his phone before grinning at the reply on the screen. 

**_9:07_ **

_ Get the fuck over here.  _

**9:09**

Be there in 20. 

***

It had been over a week so sue him for getting a little distracted. Mickey still had questions and he definitely needed answers. The last few days after his call with Mandy was just him pacing in his apartment as he tried to get his mind off the redhead. Even going to the coffee shop did nothing to ease his nerves. Gallagher might have kept his mouth shut. He might have slipped up. He might have been gabbing to his bitch of a sister about the dude he was banging and it would only take so long before Mandy put two and two together. Mickey had to know if the fucker ever mentioned him and then said fucker had texted.

Mickey’s heart was practically pounding through his chest when his apartment door shut behind Gallagher, but then well…

Mickey didn’t get a single word out of his mouth before Gallagher’s tongue was occupying it, and those huge hands pulled him in closer by his ass, and fuck the EMT was already hard as a rock. Mickey wanted nothing more than to fuck right there on the living room floor, but answers... he needed answers. 

Mickey grabbed Ian’s wrist as it went to move from his ass to his dick, quickly dodging the redhead’s attempt at locking lips once again. That stupid puppy look was accompanied with confusion as Mickey stepped back. He had tried to plan this the minute he got Gallagher’s text, but with those fucking green eyes staring at him…

“Mic-”

“You’re friends with my fucking sister.” The words tumbled out of Mickey’s mouth. 

Ian’s green eyes went wide and his jaw snapped shut as he continued to stare at the brunette in front of him. 

“Best friends, funny enough. So fucking close that if I don’t want to meet the loser she’s banging, you’d make a perfect fucking substitute.” Mickey continues on as his eyebrows climb his forehead as he stares the taller man down. 

Gallagher’s eyes remain wide and his mouth is opening and closing like a fish as he searches for his words. The silence is stretching on and Mickey feels each second of it building in his chest. It makes him itch, makes him was to run, start swinging, just fucking do something. 

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I’m friends with Mandy.”

Gallagher’s voice is tinged with guilt. He even winces as he says Mandy’s name. 

So he was fucking hiding it and fuck knows what else he’s hiding. 

Mickey’s shoulders drop as he takes another step back and turns away from the redhead. The sex is good, but it’s not fucking worth it. This is dangerous. He got too distracted, too caught up-

“She doesn’t know, Mick. I swear I haven’t mentioned you.” There is a bit of desperation hiding under Gallagher’s calm tone. 

“Bullshit,” Mickey hissed as he continued to face the wall, rubbing his head in aggravation.

“She talks about you sometimes, but I haven’t told her anything. Not about us, or what happened in the alley, I haven't even mentioned the coffee shop...”

Gallagher’s talking a mile a minute and Mickey still can’t turn around. He feels the urge to run, get away, but he’s forcing himself to stay in that spot. The hand that lands on his shoulder only causes him to freeze up even more. Mickey feels the urge to spin around and start swinging. That’s what he would have done before, just a few years ago, but that hand well… it feels like a lifeline. Ian’s hand is hesitant. He squeezes Mickey’s shoulder, lingering there while Mickey tries to calm down. It's more than a few minutes before the brunette decides to speak. 

“She can’t fucking find out.” He’s half mumbling and still can’t turn around. This is a hard rule. No one in his family can find out. Gallagher still hasn’t moved his hand off his shoulder and fuck Mickey doesn’t know if he wants him to. He does know if he has to look at the fucker’s face he might cave on this just like all his others rules, and he can’t, not if he wants to stay alive. 

“She won’t. I swear. She won’t even know we're friends.”

That does get Mickey to turn around. 

“We’re not fucking friends.” 

Ian’s barely a foot away from him and his whole expression hardens as he drops his hand from Mickey’s shoulder. That is till Mickey says...

“I don’t fuck my friends, Gallagher.” 

Mickey doesn’t really have any friends, but the words still cause Ian to huff out a laugh. The redhead watches Mickey closely as he takes a half step closer, his hand flexing at his side as if he wants to reach out and touch Mickey again. 

“But fucking your sister’s friend?”

“Gallagher-”

“A friend who’s very good at keeping secrets.”

Ian somehow got a finger wrapped around Mickey’s belt loop, giving just a gentle tug. It's not near hard enough to actually pull the Milkovich closer, but Mickey steps forward anyway. It’s all the encouragement the EMT seems to need as his other hand finds the back of the brunette’s neck. 

“She’s talks to Iggy …”

“Who can’t remember shit according to Mandy” 

“Gall-“

“He won’t find out. Neither will Mandy. Not until you decide to tell them.”

Mickey never wants to tell them. He can’t ever tell them ‘cause he doesn’t want to be six feet underground. But Gallagher’s hands are unbuttoning his pants and just … fuck he doesn’t want to give this up, not yet. He knows he’ll have to some day, but he wants this feeling the redhead seems to bring out whenever they are alone. He can keep it for just a few days more. He’s earned that hasn’t he? He’s not so fucked that he can’t indulge just a bit more?

Ian works open his jeans and is shoving his hand down the front of Mickey’s boxers. He’s leaning in close enough that they are mixing breath even though their faces aren’t touching. 

“My Lips are sealed Mick, except, of course, when they are around your dick.” 

Mickey huffs a laugh at that, finally looking Gallagher in the eye as the redhead already has him half hard once again. 

“Fuck- get on your fucking knees then.” 

And Ian does. He just drops down and is pulling Mickey’s pant down with him, and fuck if that isn’t hot Mickey doesn’t know what is. Gallagher has thrown his teasing bullshit out the window and is just taking Mickey’s cock as far into his mouth as he can. His green eyes are locked on the Milkovich standing above him as his mouth licks and sucks, bobbing ever so slightly. Mickey’s eyes are locked on him too and his tattooed hands are gripping his hair almost as tightly as Ian is gripping Mickey’s thighs. It's just the right side of painful for them both. Ian is definitely going to leave bruises, but he doesn’t lighten his grip on Mickey’s skin. 

They just fuck and talk, only really in this apartment, and Mickey doesn’t even consider them friends, but there is still something Ian can’t seem to shake about the man. As he starts to thrust into Ian’s mouth the redhead moans, pulling Mickey’s hips in closer encouragingly. The pants escaping the dark haired man’s mouth are addicting and Ian wants to listen to them on repeat. 

They’re fuck buddies. That’s the only way to really describe what is happening here. Ian should be mad he can’t tell his best friend about the hot guy he’s seeing, he should be frustrated that Mickey probably wouldn’t hang out with him outside the coffee shop and his apartment. He shouldn’t feel grateful to have his mouth wrapped around the man’s cock. But he does. 

He is so fucking happy Mickey didn’t kick him out. So happy that even though he can tell he hasn’t earned all of the Milkovich’s trust, he has a fucking chance to. 

Ian Gallagher wants a partner, a boyfriend, fuck a husband, maybe a kid or two. He wants that feeling of belonging. Call him naive or soft, what the fuck ever he wants it more than anything. At least he did. Cause fuck he might just want Mickey Milkovich even more than all the rest. For now at least he’ll take him any way he can get him, red flags and complications be damned, he has never felt like this with anyone else. 

Mickey’s thrusts are already losing their rhythm, so Gallagher makes sure he’s got the Milkovich’s eyes on his face before he moans right as Mickey’s cock meets the back of his throat. Mickey can’t help but slip over the edge at the same time as he lets “Ian,” slip out from between his lips.

Once he catches his breath Mickey steps back, out of the jeans pooling at his feet, as Ian rises to stand. Mickey’s tattooed fingers slip through the red locks only to grip Ian’s shirt firmly. Mickey doesn’t pull him in or push him away. He just keeps his tight grip on Gallagher’s shirt, holding him in place as the Milkovich gains control over his breathing. 

Ian pushes closer just a bit, finding no resistance and wraps a hand around the shorter man’s hip as well as cups the back of his neck. The kiss he presses against Mickey’s lips is firm but chaste. 

“We got nothing to be ashamed of,” Ian whispers, his breath fanning out across Mickey’s face. Ian winces the second after he lets the words slip out. He feels Mickey freeze up, but the knuckles engraved with FUCK are still gripping his shirt. 

“Doesn’t-” 

“We don’t.”

“Gall-” 

“I won’t say anything, but-”

“Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up for a second.” 

“Make me.” 

Mickey doesn’t kiss him like Ian wants him to, but he laughs. The chuckle builds in his chest as he keeps his grip on Gallagher’s shirt. So Ian steps even closer and Mickey doesn’t step back, instead he lets his head fall forward to rest on the taller man’s chest. 

“Doesn’t mean I get to be.” Mickey finally whispers after a few minutes. Ian furrows his brow in confusion until it clicks. Mickey doesn’t get to be unashamed. Ian wants to object to that, but the hand tangled in his shirt is pulling now and Mickey has started to walk backwards. It is only a second of eye contact before Mickey is surging up to lock onto Ian’s bottom lip. They’re back to a battle of tongues and losing the rest of their clothes as they make their way to Mickey’s bed. The Milkovich doesn’t say it, but Ian still hears him loud and clear. 

If we talk about it, this has to end. 

So he just kisses Mickey even harder. 

***

Mickey had wanted to drop it and surprisingly enough Gallagher had actually shut the fuck up. It was easy to just fall into the distraction of fucking and pass out not long after. But it was morning now and Mickey could hear Gallagher rummaging around in the other room. He was just sitting there in his bed with the sheet barely covering his lower half as he strained to hear the fucker moving around his apartment. Mickey would never admit it to himself, but all he was hoping was that he wouldn’t hear the front door click shut. 

Maybe this was it? Maybe the fuck would just slip out and Mickey wouldn’t even see the redhead at the coffee shop. This was supposed to be just sex but Mickey wasn’t stupid. People you just fuck don’t ask questions about the stupid shit you scribble on paper, they don’t talk your ear off about some weird new medical life saving shit they’re learning, or try to convince you its fine that they are friends with your fucking sister. They’ve only been fucking for a month but Mickey knows more about the redhead than he really cares to admit. 

Like how he knows Ian Gallagher is out, and not just in the ‘he slips out to boys town on the regular out’ but the ‘My family and my coworkers know kind of out”. He’s out in the way that fuckers are that go to that parade shit, like the guys who touch each other without looking over their shoulders, like the ones having fucking picnics with dogs and stupid sweaters. Ian is out, proud, and free. Free enough that the lock on Mickey’s front door might feel more like a cage. 

It’s only been a month. Sure, Gallagher really knew how to use his dick and Mickey definitely enjoyed all the other shit too, but if the EMT bailed then what did he really care? He’d be safer then, anyway. 

Mickey rubbed his head in frustration as he strained his ears at the lack of sound coming down the hall. He was even holding his breath till the unmistakable sound of footsteps made their way to his room. The brunette let out a sigh of relief just before the redhead walked through the doorway in his boxers. 

The minute those green eyes landed on Mickey the rest of Gallagher’s face lit up. He didn't wait for Mickey to acknowledge him, just climbed right back into bed. Mickey raised his eyebrows in annoyance, while pushing down his smirk, as the redhead caged him in with his arms, totally ignoring the rest of the space on the other side of the bed. 

The old bed frame creaked as the tall man leaned forward into Mickey’s space. His knees found their place on either side of Mickey’s hips as Ian waggled his eyebrows at the brunette. Mickey shook his head right before Ian closed the last bit of distance, locking their lips together, his hands now cradling the sides of Mickey’s face. People you just fuck don’t do this shit. Mickey kisses him back anyway. 

_ ‘We got nothing to be ashamed of’ _

Fuck, maybe they didn’t. None of this felt shameful. It just felt fucking good, so good Mickey knew that a month wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to end up dead so Mandy couldn’t know but…

“Morning,” Ian says while his face is still a few inches from Mickey’s 

“Hmm.” 

Talking seems strange after he had tried so hard to get Ian to just drop it. It wouldn’t take much to get him talking again and if talking means he gets to keep this for more than a month…

**Buzz Buzz**

It’s Ian’s phone, but the redhead doesn’t look rushed as he picks it up off the floor and checks it. He looks more nervous. 

“Mandy?” Mickey guesses out loud. 

Gallagher nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line before looking back down at his phone and then showing the screen to Mickey. 

**9:06 am**

_ Assface is ignoring me again and STILL hasn’t agreed to come _

_ So book your ticket  _

Mickey frowns for a second before turning to grab his own phone off the nightstand. He rolls his eyes as he sees 3 missed calls from his sister exactly two minutes before she sent the texts to Ian. Thank fuck he remembered to silence the thing last night. He unlocks the device, quickly shooting a text to his sister about not calling him at the ass crack of dawn, before looking back up at Ian.

“You gunna go?”

There he asked. 

Ian settles himself on top of the sheets, but his legs are still draped somewhat over Mickey’s. 

“Are you?”

“Bitch would rather have you there.” 

“Pretty sure brother still trumps best friend, Mickey.” 

Best Friend. Fuck that is still weird. Mickey feels the panic building up in his chest again so he just looks down at his phone at the little dots signaling Mandy messaging him back. 

“and if the guys a douchebag you’ll be better at the whole intimidation thing.” 

Mickey looks back up and snorts at that. Gallagher had a point. Sure, the redhead had grown up good, but he still had that stupid ass puppy dog look. 

“Plus he might get jealous, since I’m technically her ex…” 

Mickey’s head shot up at that. 

“You’re fucking what?”

Gallagher is smiling and Mickey doesn’t know what the fuck there is to smile about after saying something like that, but now the redhead is laughing. Mickey kicks him on the shin, hard, as he repeats himself.

“You’re her fucking what?”

“Ow! Her ex, technically she was my beard all through high school. I thought you knew that.”

Actually, Mickey might have known that. Either way it shouldn't have mattered but…

“You jealous, Mick?” Gallagher asks as he grins while rubbing his now bruised shin. 

“Fuck off.” 

Ian’s hand falls from his shin and lands on Mickey’s inner thigh. He starts rubbing small circles with his thumb and regardless of the sheets between them, Mickey still feels the heat gathering in his crotch. 

“Told you, I need the right Milkovich to get me going.” 

Ian’s hand drifts a little higher right as Mickey sees his sister as has messaged him back 

**9:15 am**

_ YOU OWE ME ASSFACE _

_ You better get on the damn plane.  _

Right below is a link to download a copy of his ticket. Mickey groans as he realizes he's indeed going to goddamn New York. The fucking bitch. 

Ian hand moves even higher still as the nosey fucker leans over to read what Mandy sent her brother. He laughs just as his fingers start to trail over Mickey’s balls before latching on to the bit of skin right below Mickey’s right ear. 

“See? brother trumps best friend.” 

Mickey just kisses him to shut him up. Talking is for pussies anyway.


	21. Chapter 21

“Six! You owe me six shifts, Minimum!” 

“You’re getting paid overtime. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Then why am I the one up on this contraption of doom?”

“Cause you volunteered, dip shit.”

“The fuck are you two doing?”

The wall Mickey was gunna get over 3k to scribble over was now half white half dirty worn brick, though it seemed as if half the paint that was supposed to be on the wall had dripped down, splattering all over the parking lot and even the sidewalk. Mickey watched with amusement as Kenny balanced precariously on a board placed across two ladders while Sam looked up at her coworker, unimpressed. In Kenny’s hands was a paint roller which was drenched in white paint, along with his hands and jeans. 

“This is all for you, you know!” Kenny hollered, pointing the rollers accusingly in Mickey’s direction. He had screamed loud enough for the whole block to hear, which was just ridiculous. He wasn’t even up that high. The building was only one story tall. Mickey just blinked up at Kenny while Sam rolled her eyes. 

“Just get back to work, you still have a whole other coat to do!” 

“Why don’t you help and it would go quicker?”

“I’m spotting your clumsy ass!” She yelled up at him, though the young barista didn’t seem too worried about her coworker as she turned away from him entirely to look at Mickey. 

“You decide what is going up here yet?”

“Not a clue. This shit turn into a self serve or is someone else inside?”

“Jina, though she’s been going on about the mural to anyone that would listen, so...” 

“Great...” Mickey grouched before walking around the white puddle of fresh paint on the sidewalk. 

Mickey bit his lip as he paused, staring at the front door of the coffee shop. He needed to wrap up this gig fast. Between Mandy demanding his ass get on a plane for the first time next week and his Dad’s slowly increasing phone calls, he was quickly running out of time to get his money for this shit. But Jina and him hadn't exactly seen eye to eye on this mural crap. 

Mickey made his way into the coffee shop, happy that it wasn't too crowded and disappointed that there was no redhead in sight. He was turning into such a fucking pussy. Gallagher had been at his place three days ago, no reason he needed to see his gangly ass again so soon. 

Jina on the other hand… he definitely could do with avoiding for a while. The middle aged woman was constantly throwing new concepts at him, all of which sucked ass. Mickey refused to put buildings on the side of a building. That coupled with Gallagher’s dumb ass typography suggestion had the woman actually requesting the integration of ‘poetic words that captured the essence of the neighborhood’ (without the use of any swear words cause that scare away the other middle aged women). Mickey hadn’t been able to contain his reaction to that particular request so... ever since then they had reached an impasse. That didn’t stop the woman’s face from lighting up at the sight of him. Mickey just ignored her and settled into his usual spot. 

There were still a few other customers in line, so Mickey had a few minutes before Jina made her way over. As he pulled out his sketches he felt his whole face start go red. There were maybe, if he was being honest, three sketches of something that could go on the side of the coffee shop. The rest of the pile was just a never ending slideshow to Mickey’s obsession with one Ian Gallagher. 

Mickey couldn’t really blame himself for the sketches of Ian’s torso, even as he quickly pushed them to the back of the pile. The asshole was fucking ripped and drawing whatever he remembered was one of the few ways he had to keep himself from inviting the man over to his place every night this past week. It was self defense, honestly. It was either that or jack off over three times a night. 

The rest of them… the scenes of Ian standing in his kitchen, or the sketch of the back of the fuckers head, or the one currently in his hands, Mickey didn’t have much of an excuse for those. They weren’t his horny brain trying to distract him. The scenes were all simple, non-sexual. Yet, Mickey couldn’t help but stare at them even more. 

The one in his hands was just a profile sketch. It was relatively messy, though quite cleaned up compared to the rest of the pile. Ian had laughed at something Mickey had said half way through taking a drag off his cigarette, and the look on the redhead’s face had burned its way into Mickey’s mind. After Gallagher had left his apartment Mickey wasn’t able to keep himself from immediately taking out a piece of paper to recreate the memory. 

“Oh, that's just perfect!” 

Mickey’s whole body jerked as he looked up to see Jina standing by his table. She was looking down, with a pleasant smile, right at the sketch in his hands. 

I was just going to tell you I was leaning toward a portrait for the mural!” 

Mickey just blinked at the woman as her words processed in his mind. 

“You want a portrait?” He asked, as his heart rate picked up. She had met Gallagher. She would know exactly who Mickey was drawing and fuck… was it too fucking gay? Did the fucking thing scream to the world that Mickey hadn’t been able to get the fuck out of his head for months? That fucking him had only made it worse?

“It’s very reminiscent of your bar scene!”

Right, just like how he drew the drunk fucks at the Alibi. Mickey sure as hell didn’t want to fuck any of them. It was just a drawing of a dude smoking. Nothing gay about it. 

“Just add some poetry and-”

“Jina, I told you I don’t do that poetry shit.”

The middle aged woman let out a sigh as she dropped her shoulders. Mickey watched as she swayed back and forth for a moment, clearly wrestling with something. 

“Well, Samantha did say I shouldn’t impede on your creative expression,” Jina finally stated before gazing down at the sketch of Ian once again. “So I guess I could condone some improper language, just nothing too harsh.” 

Mickey furrowed his eyebrows as he got ready to explain how getting to spray fuck against the building still didn’t mean he’d become goddamn Shakespeare, when suddenly he got an idea. 

“One sec,” Mickey said as he pulled a blank piece of paper out of his bag and placed it on top of the profile sketch of Ian. He quickly got to work sketching only half of Gallagher’s face, hoping it would disguise it enough, and added the large words that had come to mind.  It only took him a few minutes before he flipped the sketch around for Jina to take a look at. She smiled for a minute then pursed her lips before looking back at Mickey. 

“Is it supposed to be ironic, because the man’s smiling?”

“Eh, more like an inside joke.” 

One Mickey wasn’t sure even Gallagher would understand, but this was as close to “poetry” he was gunna get.

“I like it.” 

Mickey let out a small sigh of relief. They quickly worked out a time in a few days where Mickey could get it done, at night so no one would see he was the one doing it. He’d get paid the day after which was right before he flew out to deal with his fucking sister. Perfect timing really and over three grand in his pocket. 

***

“Yo!” 

“Hey there, Freddy!” 

“Oh, of course only greet your nephew, not like you haven’t seen me in over two weeks.” 

Ian ignored his brother as he scooped his nephew out of his arms and spun him around, much to the toddler’s delight. As Freddy’s giggles quieted down Ian extended an arm around Lip who ruffled his hair in response. This was their life now, seeing each other in passing whenever either of them found the time to pop across the alley. 

“You got work?” Lip asked as he nodded at Ian’s uniform. The redhead nodded, as he continued to tickle the little boy in his arms. 

“Was going to grab some coffee before heading over.” Ian explained as Lip shook his head. Lip had ragged on him more than once for spending extra cash on coffee from some “shitty hipster place.”

“Mind us tagging along? Been a while since we caught up.” 

Ian paused for only a second, reminding himself that Mickey most definitely wouldn’t be there, He should already be in the air, headed towards New York. Lip was quick to catch his hesitation though. 

“Ah sure, yeah.” 

“What? You crushing on the barista or something?” 

“What? No.” 

“That who you’re spending all your nights with lately?”

“What are you on about?” Ian tried to laugh the question off. Thankfully his phone buzzed showing Mandy was trying to call him. He’d have to call her back later. Years later, his friendship with Mandy was still a bit of a sore spot. Ian’s distraction didn’t matter though. Lip doesn’t live at the Gallagher house anymore, so he shouldn’t know about his three nights a week over at Mickey’s, but it was Lip who told him he didn’t know how to play anything cool when they were teens. That definitely hadn’t changed. 

“Carl says you got twisted up over some guy. Debby’s counting the disposable cups you bring home and then ranting about how you're slowly killing the planet.” 

Ian rolled his eyes as he handed his nephew back. Lip followed his brother out the front door, keeping his eyes trained on his brother’s face. 

“Yeah, gave me the same speech last week.”

“So the dude keeps you in dick and coffee or...”

“Dick!” Freddy screamed with a smile.

Lip cursed under his breath as Ian let out a laugh, which of course only encouraged the toddlers' use of the word.

“Dick, dick, dick.” 

“That’s right Freddy. That’s just what your Dad is. A nosey dick.” 

Ian only grinned as Lip silently mouthed ‘Fuck You” over his son’s head before trying to get Freddy to quiet down. It took more than a few blocks, and Lips just accepting Tami would kick his ass later that afternoon, before the questions continued.

“So is he blonde or…”

“You don’t stop do you?”

“I’m just saying man, all I got is Carl’s description of good in bed, but a bit of a-”

“Dick!” Freddy yelled once again.

“I’m telling Tami you're responsible for this.”

“Like she’d believe you.”

“Your right, better to blame it on Frank.”

The brother’s chuckled as they turned the corner. Lip handed his phone to his son to stop the screaming of his new favorite word, before looking back at Ian with expectant eyes.

“What?” The redhead asked, getting away with absolutely nothing. Though his phone was buzzing again, Mandy would have to wait. 

“Just asking man. Last time we talked you had been going on about how you think you want to settle down and shi- stuff, so if there's a guy...”

The last time they had talked, really talked, as in more than just keeping tabs, had been months ago. Ian kind of hates it, but understands between their schedules and Lip being a dad, there isn’t always a good moment for a brotherly heart to heart. What he hates more is remembering the conversation. 

Sitting on the back steps of the Gallagher house Ian had said he wanted to settle down. He had gone on and on to his brother about wanting a partner and stability, how he was tired of the clubs and trying to make it work with guys he had nothing really in common with. Ian had ranted and Lip had commiserated and well… not long after Ian had had his first conversation with Mickey Milkovich. 

Mickey was nothing like the regular guy’s Ian dated. But they were barely more than fuck buddies. It didn’t matter that they could talk easily about anything between fucks, right? It didn’t matter how Ian could feel a totally different type of feeling bubbling up in his chest whenever he caused Mickey to laugh. They were casual and couldn't’ be anything else because Mickey wasn’t out. 

He couldn't’ be from what Ian had picked up from how Mickey still seemed to flinch whenever his phone rang. If it had been a few years ago Ian might have pushed, for dates, for PDA, ‘cause he knows that eventually just staying behind the locked door of Mickey’s apartment won’t be enough. But after last week, the panic in Mickey’s eyes when he had thought Ian had told Mandy... Ian couldn’t push for any of that. He couldn’t push and he couldn't’ tell Lip either. 

“Ian?”

The redhead shook himself out of his train of thought and smiled at his brother. 

“I’m not dating a barista, Lip.” 

He’s technically not dating anyone. 

“Bista!” 

The Gallagher brothers both laughed in relief at Freddy’s newly discovered word. They were just a few more blocks from the coffee shop when Ian’s phone buzzed again. He ignored it. 

“Alright, but if you bring home some guy with some handlebar mustache that rides a vespa...” 

“Yeah yeah, you are never gunna let that go are you?”

“I know you’re a lightweight now man, but those must have been some beer goggles.”

“Three years, Freddy! Three years and your Dad won’t let it go!” 

“If you were sober enough to see-- Huh?”

Ian followed Lip’s gaze as they landed on the mural painted on the side of the coffee shop. His eyes widened as he took it in, unable to control the smile pulling at his lips. It was him, well, the lower half of his face. Ian might not have been able to place it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had ‘happened’ upon the same sketch of himself in Mickey’s kitchen. 

This version, now a story tall, started at his nose, cutting off his eyes and hair, but still kept his grin as he pulled the cigarette up to his mouth. Now though the smoke pouring out the end of cigarette was bright red. As the smoke twisted across the other half of the white brick wall it formed into some of the threatening letters of his first encounter with Mickey Milkovich. 

DEADMAN WALKING

“They’re trying to beautify the south side with art now?” Lip asked as he adjusted his grip on Freddy. 

“I think it’s an inside joke.” 

Ian tried to say it with a straight face, but there was no way to stop grinning. A fuck buddy doesn’t put your face on the side of a building. He quickly whipped out his phone and he snapped a picture of the mural and was about to send it over to Mickey when his phone rang yet again. 

Mandy name and picture filled his screen and as Lip spotted the image he just gestured that he would continue on while Ian took the call. Ian sighed, watching his brother walk into the coffee shop before quickly answering the phone. 

_“About fucking time!”_ Mandy whispered screamed into the phone. 

“I’m on my way to work, Mands.” 

_ “You have PTO still right? Please tell me you do?” _

“Yeah...”

_ “Good, I need to you come to New York” _

“I thought you said Mickey agreed to come?”

_ “He did and… Fuck”  _

“Mandy?”

_ “I fucked up, bad Ian, really fucking bad.”  _

“What do you mean?”

Ian listened in closely as Mandy seemed to rant to herself with the phone pulled away from her mouth. 

“Mandy!” 

_ “Fuck just, okay so Kyle…”  _

“What about Kyle?”

_ “Just, fuck, I never said what he did…” _

“You said he worked a desk job.” 

_ “Well yeah, a desk job…. for the feds…”  _

“What? Mandy!”

_ “I know, I know! Which is why I need you to come to New York and help me run interference between my dumbass criminal brother and my fed boyfriend.” _

“What do you think I can do?”

“ _I don’t know! Help keep them both distracted or something? Please Ian! I’m freaking the fuck out! I’ll pay for everything, just please!”_

Ian sighed as he stared at the giant red letters in front of him. Mickey wasn’t an idiot. He wouldn’t accidentally implicate himself in a crime, would he? Do fuck buddy’s help keep each other from possible federal investigation?

_ “Ian!”  _

“Alright, I’ll come!” 

_ “Fuck, Thank you! Thank you! I so owe you! I’ll send you the ticket information right now”  _

Ian just sighed as Mandy hung up the phone. His supervisor was going to kill him. Mickey was going to lose it when he showed up. Fuck. He’d be on a plane in two days to New York and to top it all off he had to figure out how to walk into Jina’s and play it cool in front of his brother. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay since some of you lovely people seemed interested I drew the mural that Mickey put on the side of Jina's. Hope you enjoy it along with the chapter!

Mickey walked down the unfamiliar streets around his sister’s apartment building as he gathered his thoughts. The first half of his day had been one long string of shit he had never done before; taking the blue line all the way to O'hare airport was one first, dealing with the airline security was another, figuring out how to not shit his pants as the plane took off and landed was yet another. So many firsts and Mickey cursed out his sister throughout every single one of them. This last one though took the cake. 

It had been ten years since he laid eyes on Mandy. Mickey figured it’d be fucking weird. They were different people now. Both had grown up, gotten some of their shit together, figured out their lives the best any Milkovich ever really could, but the smile on his sister’s face… it was the first time he had ever seen her smile like that. 

Mickey remembers Mandy giggling over some dumb ass she was hung up on. He remembers the shy smiles of their childhood when their Mom was still around. Hell, he even remembers Mandy’s suppressed grin while her and Gallagher were dweebs working on their homework. 

Mandy was waiting on the other side of airport security and the smile on her face was something he hadn’t ever seen on her face. His sister looked different with that big open smile that seemed to seep into even her eyes. There were other differences too. She was blonde now and her clothes seemed nicer, not nearly the same hole filled rags the Milkovich’s had been used to throughout their childhoods. She still had her bangs and nose ring, and her eyes still had some of that black shit surrounding them. Not enough that she looked like a raccoon, but it still was there. Her smile though... Mandy doesn’t smile like that, or at least she didn’t used to. 

Mickey was glad she immediately pulled him into a hug, even if he had to remember that hugging his own sister was okay. It felt more than good feeling her hands cling to his back as she buried her nose into his neck. It reminded him of the few times she had picked him up from juvie. The relief and the comfort of seeing someone you gave a shit about after not seeing them for long. Her smile, though out of his view, was now being pressed into his shoulder. 

“Assface.” 

“Douchebag.” 

“Thought you might not use the ticket,” is what she had said as she unwrapped her arms from his shoulders. 

Mickey hadn’t known quite how to respond to that, or the way Mandy had hesitated over the words. He had gotten used to her rants and complaining over the phone and through texts. This shy version of his sister was new too. 

“I’m fuckin’ here aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you really are.” 

Then she fucking smiles like that again and Mickey confirms that it’s different, but before he can figure out why his sister is pulling him toward the subway. He was very grateful for all the similarities between New York and Chicago. There was just enough he could cling to as his sister started to rant about the plans for the week, rambling almost nervously. 

The train still smells like piss and everything is just a little bit covered in grime. Some how there is even more people shoved into this city, and someone tells him to fucking move when he doesn’t grab his duffle fast enough. It’s a city. Even if is sister is rambling like an idiot and happy in a way he can’t fucking explain, Mickey is still in a dirty ass city surrounded by assholes. But then they get to Mandy’s neighborhood. There isn't’ broken glass and other bits of trash filling the streets and all the buildings look well maintained. There are people walking their fucking dogs and there is a small park that has kids instead of drugged out bums swinging on the swings. 

The evidence of how well Mandy has been doing just keeps piling up when they make it to her apartment. It’s not big, but it's bright, with clean windows and white walls. All her furniture fucking matches (Mandy mentions some place called IKEA) There are pictures on the walls of his sister smiling that same smile he can’t understand next to people he doesn’t fucking know, and it’s all too much. 

So Mickey throws his bag on the ground, tells Mandy he needs to smoke (her building is non smoking and Mandy quit years ago for some fucking reason), and goes for a walk. Mickey can feel his thoughts start to settle after his third lap around the block. He is on his second cigarette, but he can’t quite get that smile out of his head. It means she happy, really fucking happy, safe, and free. He doesn’t know why that bothers him so much, but it does. 

Mickey rubs his brow as he lets out an aggravated groan. Maybe he just needs a nap. The flight had been at the ass crack of dawn and he was more than exhausted after having to spend the night before painting the mural. The mural that secured the money now stashed away in his bag and in multiple places throughout his apartment back home. That was all this was, just exhaustion that could easily be cured with passing out on Mandy’s fancy pull out sofa for a few hours. 

His phone is buzzing as he finishes off his second cigarette. Fucking Mandy and her impatience . She can’t even text him; she has to call -- except it’s Gallagher’s name filling up his screen. 

Gallagher doesn’t call him. They text when they want to bang, that’s it. So the fuck would the fucker call him when he knows Mickey’s in New York? Mickey knows he might have forgotten, or maybe he saw the fucking mural. Gallagher does go to Jina’s most afternoons, so he’d definitely have seen it by now, but Mickey sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about it over the phone. He doesn’t want to talk about it at all. 

He answers the phone anyway. 

“The fuck you calling me for?” Mickey huffed out in aggravation. 

_ “Hey, Mick.” _

Ian sounds… hesitant? It’s easier to guess when he can see the redhead’s face and now the fucker isn’t even talking.

“Gallagher?”

_ “Yeah?” _

“The fuck you calling me for?” Mickey asks again, this time the aggravation has left his voice. Ian probably saw the mural. It probably freaked him out. Hell, Mickey would be freaked out too if some dude he was banging put his fucking face on the side of a building. 

_ “I’m coming.” _

Is this some fucked up version of phone sex?

“What?”

_ “To New York. _ ”

The fuck?

“I’m already here man, you don’t have to.” 

_ “Yeah, um I’m coming any way…” _ Ian trails off and Mickey could almost swear the fucker would be looking at him with that dumb ass puppy dog look if he could see his face. 

“The fuck for?”

_ “Mandy wants me to?” _

“That a question?”

_ “No _ – _ Fuck...”  _

Mickey listens to Ian’s mumbled curses as he pulls his mouth away from the phone. His irritation only grows as the redhead continues to not explain. 

“Gallagher!”

_ “Fuck! just... I feel like I should tell you, but Mandy probably doesn’t want me to …”  _

And the redhead is rambling again, talking a mile a minute. This is why Mickey doesn’t talk on the phone. 

“Ian, just spit it out.” 

_ “I’m supposed to mediate.”  _

“Mediate?”

_ “Between you and Kyle.” _

“Who the fucks Kyle?”

_ “Mandy’s boyfriend, Mick.”  _

Oh, so that’s the fucker’s name. 

_ “She’s worried you’ll do something.” _

It is still fucking weird knowing his sister and Gallagher talk, and apparently talk about him. Mandy vents to Ian, complains about him to Ian. Gallagher probably already knows how her smile has changed. He’s probably in one of those pictures on his sister’s wall. Gallagher clearly who she’d rather be here so...

“The fuck she invite me for then if she’s so worried about her pussy of boyfriend?”

_ “That’s not _ – _ He’s a Fed.”  _

“The fuck are you talking about?”

_ “Kyle works for the FBI. He just works a desk job, but he is a Fed and Mandy didn’t tell me till yesterday and she wants me to come to New York to help make sure you don’t do anything that will get you thrown in prison and keep Kyle oblivious, and I couldn’t exactly tell her no without her asking why when I already told her I would come before, which means she might have figured out about us, which you said can’t happen. So, I’m coming to New York.” _

Mickey can hear Gallagher panting on the other side of the line. He doesn’t really know what to say to any of that. He’s too tired for this shit.

_ “Mick?” _

“Where will you sleep?”

_ “What?” _

“Mandy’s only got the pull out couch.” 

_ “I dunno, with Mandy or maybe… if we’re lucky Mandy will just crash at Kyle's place.”  _

Gallagher was coming to New York. He’d be here in this Polly Anna neighborhood with him and Mandy, and fucking Kyle. 

“When are you getting here?”

_ “Tomorrow night.” _

“Okay.”

_ “Okay?” _

“Yeah, see you tomorrow man.” 

And with that Mickey hung up the phone and made his way back to his sister’s place, resolved to not think about any more of this shit till he had his nap. 

***

_ “It’s just weird.” _

“Why?”

_ “‘Cause, Ian! He’s on my couch sleeping and he’s just, I dunno different.”  _

Ian sighed as he threw a few more t-shirts into his duffle bag. He was tired, irritated, and worried. Between working an extra long shift and juggling calls between Milkovich’s he was already hitting his wits end and he wasn’t even in the state of New York yet. 

“Mandy, it’s been 10 years. Pretty sure you changed too.”

_ “I know, I know it’s just ... he looks the fucking same, but he acts relaxed, maybe? He used to be so jumpy.” _

Ian doesn’t remember that at all but the information has him sighing with relief. After Mickey had hung up on him a few hours ago he wasn’t sure where they stood, or how the hell they were gunna get through the next week. If the Milkovich was relaxed that had to be a good sign, right? Ian had done the right thing keeping him in the loop, hadn’t he?

“Again 10 years, Mands.” 

_ “Yeah…” _

“You good?”

_ “He showed up. He’s in my living room.”  _

“Yeah.” 

_ “We fucking hugged when he got here, like how we used to whenever he got out of juvie,” _ Mandy whispers into the phone. Even with how quiet she is Ian still picks up on the slight crack in her voice. He can picture his best friend standing at the entryway to her bedroom as she peers as Mickey while he sleeps on the couch, just making sure he’s really there. 

“You missed your brother.” 

_ “Yeah, guess I did miss the asshole.”  _

“Pretty sure he missed you too, Mands. Why else would he have started calling or come to New York?” 

_ “Thank you, you know. For dropping everything this week and helping me. Means a lot.”  _

“Well I’m working nothing but doubles after I come back, so you definitely owe me.” 

_ “Oh, I’ll make sure you get your dick wet for your troubles.”  _

Ian chuckles at Mandy’s words, but it's a stunted laugh. He quickly finishes up zipping his bag and collapses onto his bed with his phone still pressed to his ear. It’s only for a week, but he has no idea how Mickey is going to handle any of it. After their phone call Ian wasn’t sure if Mickey would even acknowledge him if they ever did get a moment alone, and the idea of pretending he’d want to sleep with anyone else… it just didn’t sit right. 

“What’s the story then?” Ian asks. 

_ “Story?” _

“Yeah, like why am I there? Kind of weird if I’m crashing a ‘boyfriend meet the family situation’.”

_ “Or that's kind of perfect.”  _

“What?”

_ “You showed up to surprise me and since you made the trip might as well tag along, Kyle has heard me talk about you so he’ll get it.”  _

“And Mickey?”

_ “What about him?” _

“Won’t he think it's weird?”

_ “He knows we're friends. Even if he’s weird about it Assface can deal with it.” _

Ian doesn’t reply as he thinks back to his conversation with the man earlier that morning. He’d expected a bit more of a reaction from the Milkovich, but he seemed to just roll with the punches for now, but how would that translate once they were face to face in front of Mandy? Especially once Ian revealed how shitty he was at keeping his composure. 

_ “Ian?” _

“Sorry, what’d you say?” 

_ “Never mind, I’m just going off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” _

“Yeah, See you tomorrow.” 

_ “Seriously though, thank you.”  _

“No problem, Mands.” 

At least Ian knew one Milkovich was happy with him. 

***

The rest of the night and through most of the morning Ian jumps from task to task. Anything to keep him from texting Mickey, though keeping his mind off the Milkovich was quickly becoming impossible. Especially now that he was stuck on the el for a forty minute ride to the airport. So he pulled up the picture of the mural and just stared at the detail sprayed over the white bricks. The letters looked exactly like the threat Mickey had spray painted across the building back during their teens. He couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that something that once made Ian look around every corner now kept a permanent smile on his face. 

They hadn’t talked about it. Mickey didn’t know he had seen it and Ian had no idea what it meant for them, if it meant anything at all. Fuck, he wants to talk about it, but doing it while having to pretend like Mickey is just his best friends brother that tried to beat the shit out of him that one time… not the best of circumstances. 

Though Ian didn’t have the time to overthink it for long as his phone started buzzing with Mickey’s name filling up the screen on his phone. 

_ “Why aren’t you here yet?” _

“Mickey?”

“ _ Who else would it be? I thought you were supposed to mediate this shit?” _

“I’m heading to the airport now, won’t get in till 6.”

_ “Then why am I having breakfast with this clown in 40 mins?” _

“...No idea?”

_ “This place makes Jina’s look like a fucking dumpster fire, of course fuck head picked it.” _

“I’m assuming fuck head is Kyle?”

_ “It’s 40 minutes just to sit down and get some fucking eggs, which aren’t even on the front page of the menu.”  _

“What?”

_ “Yeah, this bullshit is covered in avocado toast, rich people pancakes, and other weird shit that the eggs can only go on the back of the fucking menu. Oh, and I have to walk three blocks away to even have a smoke why I wait the 40 fucking minutes, cause of all the pissy bitches also waiting in line.”  _

“I’m sure you’ll get your eggs soon, Mick.”

_ “Can’t even get a cup of coffee. Everyplace in this shit neighborhood has a line just as fucking long. Mandy didn’t make shit since we were already running late. How the fuck we can be late when we have to wait forty minutes and the fucker isn’t even here yet...” _

Ian grinned as he leaned back in his seat and listened to the man rant about his lack of access to caffeine. Mickey called him to complain. Mickey put his face on a wall. Mickey seemed eager for Ian to play buffer for him and Kyle. All of these things definitely adding up to them being more than just fuck buddies. 

“Think I realized why Sam never makes you wait in line.” 

_ “What are you talking about?”  _

“Gotta make sure Mickey has his VIP table at Jina’s–” 

_ “Oh Fuck Off.” _

“–otherwise he’ll start blowing smoke in all the faces of the pissy soccer Mom’s.”

_ “They don’t let me smoke in Jina’s, shit head. _ ”

“Doubt they’d kick you out for it. Then they’d lose their favorite artist.” 

The words slip out of his mouth and he waits for some biting reply, but Mickey’s just quiet for a few seconds too long, and Ian doesn’t know what to say till Mickey starts speaking again. 

_ “Finished fucking up a whole wall with my shit, pretty sure they're out of places for my scribbles to go. _ ” 

“I dunno man, Jina was taking ideas for another mural behind the counter when I stopped in two days ago.” 

Silence again. Ian can’t help but feel every second of awkwardness, but it’s best to wait Mickey out. ‘Cause Ian did just admit to having seen the mural and maybe this is one of the things Mickey doesn’t want to talk about. He hasn’t hung up yet, though. That has to be a good sign. 

_ “So, you went by Jina’s… you saw it?” _

“Mmhm, not sure if I should feel flattered or threatened.” Ian’s tone is teasing, but Mickey still is taking a while to respond. 

_ “You’re the one that had the fucking Typo whatever shit suggestion.” _

“Don’t think it included putting my face up there,” Ian teases. 

_ “Fuck off, it’s just your chin.”  _

“Hmm and my shoulders...pretty sure the sketch started out with my whole face too.”

_ “You never got taught to not go through other people's shit did you?” _

“Oh come on, like you could resist if you saw a stack of drawings of yourself.” 

_ “It wasn’t a fucking stack…” _

“Hmmm you think I’m hot.” 

_ “Like that wasn’t fucking obvious, alien looking fucker…” _

“Alien?” 

_ “Yeah, with your red hair, freckles, and shit…” _

“Saw you added some of the freckles on my chest to the wall.”

_ “Fuck off man. Like I said Jina picked it–” _   


“Mickey.”

_ “What?” _

“I like it. It’s kind of amazing.” 

**_“Assface!”_ **

Ian hears Mandy hollar in the distance over the line and Mickey screams something back in reply. He almost expects to get hung up on till Mickey responds. 

_ “Good. That, you know, like it or whatever.” _

“See you soon Mick.” 

_ “Yeah, see ya.” _

When the phone disconnects Ian is greeted once again with the picture of the mural. Maybe this trip would be just what he needed. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp this one took forever for me to write but thank you all so much for your lovely comments. I hope you enjoy!

7:04 PM

_One alien looking fucker inbound in 10 mins_

Mickey snorted as he read Gallagher’s text. He was laying across his sister’s couch with his head resting on the arm rest. He could hear Mandy rummaging around in her bedroom, changing for the third fucking time. For what Mickey had no idea. Her fuck head Fed of a boyfriend already saw her this morning. It’s not like he’d be that much more impressed when her t-shirt was switched out for some skanky dress. 

The dude already seemed to think the sun shone out of Mandy’s ass. Their breakfast had made that painfully obvious with his smitten looks. Mickey didn’t really know what to expect from the guy. When Kyle had finally shown up he was practically tripping over himself to apologize, all while dressed up like he was about to go church. The fucker was taller than him, but not as tall as Gallagher. He had some muscles, dark hair, brown narrow eyes, and there was something stupidly familiar about his face, but Mickey couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Not exactly trash, not anything like Mandy’s old type, but still oddly familiar. 

When his apologies suddenly turned in Mickey’s direction the Milkovich was half tempted to sock the guy in the face just to shut him up. Mandy glaring at him over Kyle’s shoulder made Mickey resign to just shake the man’s already extended hand. An hour of awkward questions later Mickey was happy to escape the whole thing with only two new bruises on his shins, from Mandy’s well placed kicks. Gallagher mediating this shit would be a welcome change. 

The firm knock on Mandy’s front door grabbed Mickey’s attention as he rolled his eyes at his sister's sad attempts at confusion over the noise. 

“I wonder who the fuck that is?” Mandy mumbled while glancing at Mickey one too many times to not be suspicious. Mickey shook his head as he sat up on the couch and waited for the redhead to be revealed on the other side of the door. 

“Surprise!” 

“Ian! You asshole!”

Both their voices were less than convincing, but watching his sister leap into Gallagher’s arms was still enough of a shock that Mickey couldn’t help his eyes widening at their affection for each other. Mandy would be easily convinced when she turned around to see Mickey’s face. 

It had only been a few days, but it was damn good to see Gallagher again. Mickey let his eyes linger over the man’s smile and strong arms, which were lifting Mandy into the air as he squeezed her into a hug. Earlier, when he had a chance to take a closer look at Mandy’s apartment, Mickey had discovered several pictures featuring Gallagher and his sister, but seeing them framed on a wall hadn't really hit the same way as seeing them together did. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mandy squeezed out, trying her best not to look over her shoulder, to see if Mickey was buying it. He wasn’t, but watching them try was hilarious. 

Ian shrugged as he kicked his bag into the apartment and let Mandy’s front door close behind him. Mickey could see every bit of tension in his body as the redhead shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“Figured I had heard enough about this Kyle, had to meet him, make sure he was good enough for you.” Ian’s tone was stilted, clearly rehearsed, and it was taking everything in Mickey not to laugh at the two idiots. 

“Well... you're not the only one.” 

The two turned to face Mickey at the exact same time, watching him closely for his reaction, but for different reasons. He remained seated on the couch, just raising his eyebrow as they both stared him down for a second too long. 

“Oh, hey Mick.” Ian greeted, his voice sounding a little more normal. With Mandy facing away from him Ian let a smile light up his face as Mickey stared him down. Mickey might have grinned back, but his sister was now glaring at him, obviously thinking his hesitated response was for a reason other than trying to **not** let on how happy he was to see the idiot. 

“Gallagher.”

“Mickey got here yesterday. He met Kyle this morning,” Mandy provided, her eyes flitting between the two men 

“Anything left of the guy?” Ian asked, genuinely intrigued. Mickey rolled his eyes as Mandy slapped Ian’s shoulder. “What? I’ve been on the wrong end of a Milkovich beat down, it’s a fair question.” 

“I never fucking touched you,” Mickey snarked back.

“And you won’t fuck with Kyle either, shit head.” Mandy replied as she glared down her brother. 

“The fuck is the point in me coming if I don’t get to rough puppy face up a bit?”

“Ugh, he doesn’t have a puppy face! He barely talked to him at breakfast. I had to kick him every five minutes to get more than two words out of him....” Mandy complained as she rolled her eyes. She continued on about every way Mickey didn’t kiss Kyle’s ass while Ian just continued to grin at the two Milkovichs. He chanced a few raised eyebrows at Mickey when ever Mandy wasn’t looking in his direction, causing the male Milkovich to narrow his eyes. 

“...other than to bitch about his fucking eggs-”

“It was the shit they put on them! The fuck is wrong with just normal goddamn eggs?” 

Ian is laughing at him, Mickey can tell, even though the fucker is trying to hide his mouth behind his hand. Mandy is yelling at him again and fuck… this just feels nice. 

“Whatever assface,” Mandy snipes playfully as she turns back to Ian. “We’re grabbing drinks. Hopefully you can meet Kyle and can actually fucking talk to him like normal person.” With her back turned Mandy misses how Mickey’s suppressed grin falls completely from his face at her comment. He’s quick to hide it, though maybe not fast enough for Ian to not catch it. 

“Do I have time to change?” The redhead asks, holding out his arms to show the subtle sweat marks just barely showing in his pits. 

“Fine, but quick! We are already late.” 

“We can’t be late if we have to wait another forty fucking minutes.” 

“Mickey, I fucking swear...” 

Mandy is ranting again, and Mickey might have been entertained by her exasperation, if it wasn’t for the fact that Ian had decided quick means changing right where he was standing. The fucker had already pulled his shirt over his head, giving Mickey a decent look at his chest before ducking down to dig through his duffle bag. 

“Mickey, are you even listening?”

He recovered quickly enough refocusing on his sister, while still watching Ian behind her bite his lip suggestively before pulling on a green t-shirt. 

“Don’t bash the idiot’s face in, Don’t bitch about the food, and why the fuck would I bring up work shit, bitch?” Mickey rattled off quickly as he stood from the couch. 

“Better not. You good?” Mandy asked Gallagher and Ian confirmed with a laugh and a nod. “Good, let’s move!” 

***

The entire walk to the bar Mickey watched his sister and Gallagher joke with each other like they had known each other for years... which they fucking did. Mandy asked him about his latest shift and how pissed his boss was when Ian asked for the time off. She asked about his family and teased him about something that happened the last time Gallagher had come out, which was only a year ago apparently. 

It was awkward sure, but Mickey found himself pleasantly surprised with how many details in Ian’s answers he already knew. The man talked enough after they fucked that Mickey already had the basic run down on the rest of the Gallagher clan. He knew about the shit head who fell off his back porch in half a clown suit, breaking his leg that Ian had to tend to. Mickey also knew how Ian and Mandy had gotten shit faced on her bedroom floor on his last visit. 

What was weird was realizing how little he knew about his sister’s life. Everything Gallagher asked her about was shit Mickey hadn’t the slightest clue about. In the 24 hours they had spent alone together it was all basic shit in their conversations. It hadn’t really bothered Mickey before. 10 years is a long fucking time, but now faced with how much Gallagher knew and how often Mandy laughed...Mickey was really needing that beer. 

To his relief the place they ended up at was just a regular bar with sticky floors, dim lights, and a couple of TV’s showing the Yankee’s game. It was definitely a step up from the Alibi, but far from the fancy shit place they had eaten breakfast at. 

“There he is,” Mandy says looking to the back of the room as she squeezes Ian’s arm before walking ahead. Kyle is waving them down, still dressed in his khakis and button down shirt. He’s partially standing from a booth against the back wall. Even 10 feet away the guy looks nervous. The fucking dork. 

“Huh,” Ian huffs out as him and Mickey walk over at a slower pace. 

“What?”

“It’s just… I’ll explain later,” Ian whispers as they get within hearing distance of the booth. Mandy’s already got her arms draped around Kyle’s neck while the man smiles at her like she hung the fucking moon. Mickey kind of wants to deck him, just for the hell of it. 

“Ian, what a surprise! Great to finally meet you in person,” Kyle greets Gallagher with a smile as he stands up from the booth and extends his hand. Ian takes it much quicker than Mickey managed too earlier that morning, but the redhead still hesitated for just long enough that Mickey notices. 

“Yeah man. It’s good to put a **face** to the voice.” 

Gallagher is glancing a bit ridiculously over at Mandy, who for some reason is avoiding eye contact and choosing instead to stare down her brother. 

“Mickey, good to see you!” Kyle greets him as well. They saw each other not more than a few hours ago so it feels ridiculous when Kyle starts reaching out his hand, but Mickey shakes it just to avoid getting kicked under the table once they sit down. Mandy’s already made sure his shins are black and blue.

As Kyle slides into the booth Mickey follows suit across the table, hoping the extra distance will save his shins, but as Mandy sits next to her boyfriend Mickey realizes what he's done. The Milkovich doesn’t know where to fucking look cause across the table he’s got the puppy faced idiot and now next to him Gallagher slides in. The booth isn’t tiny but it’s not roomy either and he can feel Gallagher’s knee tap his, and the fucker just leaves his leg there. 

“How was the flight?” Kyle asks and Mickey is glad the first question isn’t directed at him. Gallagher answers quickly enough, but he’s shifting his legs just slightly under the table so Mickey’s leg is right against his. He can’t moved further away without looking like he wants to merge with the fucking wall, and no one would be able to see their legs under the table with how dim the place is. So Mickey shifts his leg as well so his entire calf is pressing against Ian’s. Mickey ignores the redhead’s grin that he catches out of the corner of his eye. 

“Hey guys. Here are a couple of menus. Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asks as she walks up with a smile. 

“Yeah, you got beer?” Mickey asks before anyone else. Gallagher or no, He’d need alcohol to deal with this shit. 

“Sure got some local craft brews, stout, IPA…” 

Jesus fuck. It’s like the eggs all over again. 

“How about beer?” Mickey interrupts the waitresses continuing list. He can feel Mandy glaring at him and Ian is trying to hide a laugh, but the waitress just nods with a smile. 

“One beer and…”

“I’ll have the same,” Ian speaks first, still suppressing a chuckle, then Mandy orders weird special shit while Kyle goes for ‘what’s ever local and on tap.’ 

“Not into craft beer then, Mickey?” Kyle asks as the waitress leaves to put in their order. 

“Beer’s beer man.” 

“South side Chicago isn’t really beer garden central. We drink what we can get,” Ian answers for him and Mickey is already grateful for Mandy’s instance that Ian needed to be there as a buffer. 

“That’s right. You all grew up together sort of, didn’t you?” Kyle asks as he looks between them all. Mickey just blinks at him. 

“We lived a few blocks from each other,” Mandy offered. 

“Yeah, we all go way back. I saved Mandy from the pervy social studies teacher…” Ian continued.

“My Hero.” 

“... and watched Mickey piss on first base in Little League,” Ian replied with a fond laugh. 

Mickey's head whipped over to look at Ian for the first time since they sat down. 

“You heard about that?”

“I was playing second, Mick.”

“Huh…” Mickey tapped the table as he tried to remember a baby faced Gallagher at the dugouts, but nothing comes to mind. 

“Well if you didn’t remember trying to bash my head in, I doubt you would have remembered that,” Ian huffs in aggravation. 

“Jesus christ, I didn’t touch you! I couldn’t even find your slippery ass.”

“Just chased me through the Kash and Grab, trashed the place, spray painted that I was a deadman across a building, …” Ian listed off each offence while counting them all with his fingers, his tone getting more dramatic with each item added. Mickey rolled his eyes while Kyle's mouth slowly dropped open. 

“The fuck you expect when my sister says you got too handsy with her?” 

“Wait, what?”

“waited outside the school and my house for hours…” 

“I was a bitch and Ian wouldn’t make out with me, so I told my brothers he tried something. It’s all water under the bridge, baby.” 

“Beat the shit out of my brother when you couldn’t find me…” 

“Exactly! I beat his face in, not yours.”

“All that and I was at your house every week with Mandy for like two years, and you still didn’t recognize me.” 

“That’s what your fucking on about?”

Ian turns in mock exasperation to look at Kyle. “I’m just a redhead who’s overly friendly with no self preservation.” 

Kyle just blinks at them all. 

“It’s been ten years! You're not exactly one giant ass baby faced freckle anymore, are you?”

“You saying I grew up good, Mick?” Ian’s looking at him again and his tone is nothing but flirty. Fuck, He knows that look. If they were back in Chicago, in Mickey’s apartment, one of them would already be on their knees or pulling at each others’ clothes. Instead he’s in this fucking booth with Mandy watching him like a hawk for some fucking reason. 

“You grew a foot and I can’t break you with my thumb anymore, Congratulations.” 

“And you learned the wonders of regular showers,” Ian snarked back. Both Mandy and Kyle were staring at Mickey now with different confused expressions. Mickey just flips Ian off with a grin as the waitress appears with their drinks. 

The beer tastes like beer, thank fuck. 

“It’s nice you guys have known each other for so long. I don’t think I’m even friends with anyone from college anymore,” Kyle says with a smile before taking a sip of his drink.

What the fuck is Mickey supposed to say to that? Cause he doesn’t have friends. Gallagher isn’t even his friend. No one else at the fucking table went to college… at least he does think Mandy has. He can’t remember if Ian ever mentioned going. Do you need a college to be an EMT?

“Most of the people from our neighborhood I’d rather forget, but I guess these two are okay.” Ian replies easily. “How’d you two meet by the way? Mandy only dodges the question whenever I ask.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Mandy, for once, is looking at Kyle the same way she casually glares at Mickey or Ian whenever they push her buttons. Mickey half expects the dork to flinch, but he just grins back at her. 

“It’s cute.” 

“It’s not, and if you ever want your dick sucked again you’ll keep your mouth shut!” 

Kyle glances hesitantly over at Mickey. Mickey just blinks at him. He’s walked in on his sister riding cock one too many times to give a shit about her talking about blowing some dude. 

“Can’t be that bad, Mands,” Ian throws in, but he’s grinning, which can only mean he thinks it will be that bad. 

It’s not really. When Mickey thinks of all the shit his sister used to get up to when she was back on the south side, accidentally tasing her boss is low on the list, along with dating a guy who she thought was stalking one of her old coworkers. Mickey has a feeling there was something being left out, something that had to do with Kyle being a Fed, but he didn’t ask. When work had come up at breakfast Kyle had just said he ‘ worked a usual 9-5 desk job’ and hadn’t elaborated much past that. No way Mickey was gunna ask. 

Gallagher is laughing at all the required spots, thankfully, teasing Mandy when she starts to blush. Mickey barely has to say anything, which is good because he doesn’t get why his sister is embarrassed by the story. Tazing some old fuck till he’s pissed himself and getting fired before tearing into the asshole she thought was following her coworker is standard behavior for his sister. At least, it used to be. Just like the walk to the bar Mickey is reminded how little he knows his sister now, and really just wants someone to change the fucking subject. 

“Ian, seeing anyone special?” Kyle asks. 

Mickey freezes in place. He feels Ian do the same and he’s trying his best to not stare the redhead down. The leg pressed against his under the table has pressed even closer. Ian takes a large gulp of his beer, which he had been nursing like a bitch until then. 

“Uhh, no. No one um serious.” Gallagher’s words stumble out of his mouth and Mickey can tell it is taking everything in the redhead to not glance in Mickey’s direction. The fucker isn’t being anything near chill and Mickey is just waiting for Mandy to jump on her nervous friend, but a quick glance at his sister and her eyes are locked on him instead, and she is just as tense as Gallagher seems to be. 

“Oh, well I’m sure you’ll find someone soon. Mandy said you were burnt out on the club scene lately.”

Mickey turns a little more towards Ian as the redhead tries to find his words without looking at the brunette next to him. The shift pulls Mickey’s leg away from Gallagher’s, and while Ian hasn’t caved into looking at Mickey he does look down at the table for a second too long before answering. 

“Yeah, the loud music, overpriced drinks, and shitty lays aren’t really doing it for me these days.” 

Mickey wants Ian to continue, maybe elaborate what is doing it for him these days, but fucking Kyle decided he needed to turn his attention to Mickey. 

“What about you, Mickey?”

“What about me?”

“No one serious?”

Mickey’s eyebrows have almost merged with his hairline as he stares at the puppy face fucker across from him. Mandy is now leaning in and Mickey knows Gallagher is staring at him without blinking, cause he can suddenly feel the redhead’s leg against his once again. 

“Nope.” 

“My brother’s not exactly Casanova,” Mandy snarks. Mickey flips her off for that. “Though you could fucking finally tell me about Lana, assface!” 

“The fuck for?”

“Lana?”

“My brother’s ex wife. So spill shit head!” Mandy’s not gunna let up and though Gallagher isn’t saying a word Mickey knows the nosey fucker wants her to keep pushing. 

“The fuck you need to know? We did the vow shit, she’s a bitch, got divorced over a year ago.” Mickey rattles it off before taking a large gulp of his beer. 

“How long were you married?” Kyle asks and Mickey really wants to punch him, but Mandy’s got a determined look on her face so he’s not getting out of answering. 

“Three years.” 

“Seriously, you were married to a stripper for three years?” Mandy asks. Mickey’s got a few more things he can say to keep her from prying too much, but he really doesn’t want to talk about this shit. Those three years of his life were far from the best. The two preceding them were definitely worse, but his marriage wasn’t a fucking cake walk. 

Mickey shrugged and grabbed his beer again before saying, “She made good money, the fuck do I care if the bills get paid?” 

“That’s… very sex positive of you.” Kyle stutters out. 

“What?”

“You don’t judge your ex for using her body to make money,” Ian explains. 

“Not like she was good at anything else.”

That’s not true. Mickey knows it, just like he knows that Lana is already remarried some rich fuck on the north side of Chicago while he can’t even tell his sister he’s banging her best friend on the regular. 

“The fuck you marry her for then? Just wanted lap dances for free?” 

“Thought I knocked her up.”

“What?!” 

Mandy is half leaning on the table. Mickey can’t look to his left. He doesn’t want to know what Gallagher looks like right now. 

“Turns out the shit didn’t take,” Mickey explains. 

What he doesn’t explain is how he threatened to get the kids DNA tested the minute it popped out when Lana claimed he was the one that dropped a load in her. He didn’t explain how he didn’t agree to marry her until months later when he found her doubled over in the Milkovich family room, stomach clearly bruised from a beating. If the kid was his then she didn’t have to worry about Terry anymore and for a while neither did Mickey. 

  
“Well, better a kid didn’t get caught up in the divorce then.” Kyle offers, looking like he regretted even bringing the topic up. Wasn’t Mickey supposed to be grilling this asshole, making sure he was good enough for his sister? Why the fuck had it turned into Mickey’s fucked up life on display?

Mandy didn’t say anything else, but still was looking at him like she knew there was more to the story. Who knows, if his sister got him drunk enough later, when Kyle wasn’t around stating the obvious, maybe Mickey would tell her the rest of the fucked up story. 

“Want another round?” Mickey asks, already starting to slide across the booth, not willing to wait for the waitress to reappear. Gallagher moves out of his way fast enough and Mickey’s glad ‘cause he still can’t get himself to look the redhead in the eye. He can’t face the million of questions Gallagher isn’t asking. 

Mickey orders four more beers at the bar and feels his hands tapping rapidly against the bar top. He wants to smoke. He wants to head out the front door and get on the next plane. He wants-

“Mick.” 

Mickey turns to see his sister now standing next to him, very intently staring at her shoes. 

“Shouldn’t have brought it up in front of Ian and Kyle. It’s not their business.” 

Mickey can probably count the number of times his sister has apologized to him on one hand, and they all happened before he was ten years old. Milkovichs don’t apologize. They cuss each other out, throw punches, and don’t talk about touchy feely shit. Sure, she hasn’t said the words exactly but it's as close as they have ever gotten. 

“The fuck do I care,” Mickey mumbles out, but Mandy’s now nudging him with her shoulder and their both smiling a bit while still not looking at each other. 

“Why are you all cagey about that taser shit?” Mickey asks and when Mandy doesn’t immediately respond he follows it up with, “not like you haven’t done worse before.” 

Mandy snorts next to him, undoubtedly remembering some other shit she's done when it comes to a guy. “Yeah, but I haven’t done a lot of that shit here, ya know. And I wanted....” 

Mandy pauses as the bartender hands over their next round and takes the cash out of Mickey’s hand. When she does continue after the guy leaves to get his change, Mickey finally turns to face her. 

“You wanted what?”

“I’m not… not that hood skank anymore and... I wanted you to see that, you know.” 

A few years ago, while he was still stuck in Terry's house, he might not have known. He might of asked what the fuck was wrong with her before and why she was all uppity now. Even though he didn’t move to a different city Mickey now had a taste of a safe place to go home to. He knows what it is like having semi regular cash coming in that’s from legal purposes and waking up with someone in your bed that you want to snuggle closer to instead of jerking away. It's the taste of a life that isn’t just about survival and he gets wanting your sibling to be proud of you for making it for yourself. 

“As long as you still remember how to taze a pervert. Your puppy dog over there doesn’t look like he’d be much use in a fight.” 

Mandy punches him in the shoulder but that big smile is back on her face. “He’s more useful than you think.” 

***

They somehow manage to steer clear of any other touchy topics for the rest of the night. Mickey’s pleasantly buzzed on his fourth beer, laughing at some fucked up story Ian is telling about trying to return a toddler his kid sister took cause she was lonely. 

Kyle still looks at them every once and while like he can’t believe they find this shit funny, but the fucker must be buzzed as well since he’s cracking up along with them. Mandy is a step off wasted as she starts on to a story about when she and Ian were in Detroit together and some bouncer was trying to escort them out of the club. 

“Well you shouldn't have decked her, Mandy!” Ian half laughed, smiling as his best friend scowled at him before continuing on. 

“Bish pulled my hair, plusss... not like it was a problem... bouncer had the hots for you.” 

“He still made us leave!” 

“Hey! Yous got laid that night... and I didn’t!” Mandy ended her defense pointing her hand accusingly at Ian, and knocking her drink over the process. 

“Okay, chatty Kathy I think we should call it a night.” Kyle quickly grabbed the napkins to mop up a bit of whatever cocktail shit Mandy had ordered last, while his girlfriend pouted in his direction. Mickey just shook his head laughing at his sister while he glanced over to Gallagher’s still unfinished beer. Ian was still on his first one, Mandy having taken the second one Mickey bought, and he refused another round anytime someone else offered. 

“You finishing that?” Mickey asked, pulling Ian attention away from a flailing Mandy. 

“What? Oh, no. Go for it.” 

Mickey quickly chugged it. He might have asked the fuck wasn’t Ian drinking it for, but he was tired, buzzed, quickly realizing what an opportunity his drunk sister was. 

“Yo, Kyle.” 

The man turned to Mickey while still trying his best to keep his girlfriend from attempting to jump into his arms. 

“You got her for the night?”

“Ah, yeah yeah, I got her.” 

“Good. Mandy!” 

“Whaat!” 

“The fuck are your keys?”

Mandy patted herself down, before spinning in a circle till her blurry eyes landed on her purse still resting on the booth seat. She lunged at the bang and sporadically dug through it till she held her keys above her head in victory. Ian quickly grabbed them from her. 

“Hey!” 

“You’re gunna go home with Kyle.” 

“So!”

“And Mickey and I will crash at your place and see you in the morning.” 

Mandy let out a long aggravated sigh before turning to once again latch on to her boyfriend's arm. With a bit more convincing the three men were able to pour Mandy into an uber along with Kyle, leaving Ian and Mickey standing in front of the bar. 

“You remember where the fuck her place is?” Mickey asked as he looked down the street trying to figure out where the fuck they were. Ian just laughed and nodded before biting his lip.

“Then lead the way, Fire crotch. We’re wasting time here.” 

“Wasting time?”

“You’d rather be out here than getting your dick sucked?” Mickey asked as they started walking much to Gallagher’s shock. 

“You offering Mick?” Gallagher’s smirking at him with that fucking look that Mickey knows leads to a good bang. Yeah, they're in public, but they’re in fucking New York. His Dad is states away and he just the right amount of buzzed to not give a fuck. 

“Would have blown you in the alley already if these nice ass neighborhoods weren’t so well lit.” Mickey’s not whispering. He’s not screaming it for the whole street to hear, but he also isn’t looking over his shoulder. 

Ian is laughing as Mickey glares up at the street lights, all of which are in perfect working order providing few shadows adequate enough to suck nine inches down in a hurry. 

“What’d you think of Kyle?”

“You seriously want to talk about that fucker right now?”

Ian’s grin somehow only grows as he shakes his head. Mickey knocks his shoulder into the redheads' side just because he can, and because Ian will nudge him back the whole way to Mandy’s.


	24. Chapter 24

It’s different walking into Mandy’s with Gallagher instead of his own place. His bravado from the walk over has almost entirely dissipated. The usual urge Mickey feels to immediately pull the redhead towards him is abated by seeing the apartment that isn’t his. It’s like his sister is watching him from all the photos on the walls, instead of passing out at her boyfriend's place. 

Mickey watches closely, biting his lip, as Gallagher locks the deadbolt and slides the chain into place. The door is locked. Mandy doesn’t have keys. There is no way anyone would happen upon them, yet Mickey is still stuck just standing in the middle of his sister’s family room.

Ian throws the keys into a bowl that is on a table next to the front door. It is probably something he’s done a dozen times. Gallagher’s in familiar territory, which is more than clear as he easily closes the distance between him and Mickey. 

Ian wraps his hand around the back of Mickey's neck while the Milkovich lets out a nervous breath. The first kiss he lands on the smaller man is light and soft, quickly followed by another and another, till Mickey opens his mouth and kisses back. Even after the Milkovich is responding it is still slow, with small bites on each other's lips and moments of pressing their foreheads together as they catch their breath, before continuing once again. 

They pull each other in close, and while Mickey is grabbing at Ian’s shirt, he has yet to move to actually pull the damn thing off. He knows he should speed this up. They're both horny and well on their way to being hard, but the Milkovich can’t quite get himself to move things any faster. 

Ian’s hands have found their way around Mickey’s waist. Occasionally they reach down to squeeze his ass and pull the man in, but it's not the same as every other time the redhead has done it in the weeks gone by. 

“Mick...” Ian’s voice is breathy as he tips Mickey’s chin up before letting his tongue slowly caress Mickey’s. Fuck, why does going slow feel so fucking good? It shouldn’t. It should feel like something in the way of the good part. 

Mickey changes the pace as he jerks Ian in by his shirt. The brunette walks backward quickly, pulling Ian with him till he turns and shoves the redhead down on the couch. Ian is just looking up at him with a smirk and raised eyebrows, like he knows exactly what Mickey’s about to do. So what if he does? 

“Pants off, Gallagher.” 

Ian is still moving slower than usual, but he’s picked up the pace a bit when Mickey drops to his knees, and starts to assist him with pulling his jeans down to gather at his feet. His boxers quickly follow, revealing the glorious nine inches that Mickey’s become addicted to. Mickey wraps one hand around the base of Ian’s now hard cock as he leans in and quickly takes the head into his mouth. He can’t take the whole thing without gagging, at least not yet, but Gallagher doesn’t seem to mind, if the small whines escaping his mouth are anything to go by. 

As Mickey finds his rhythm, between bobbing his head and jerking off the part of Ian he can’t fit in his mouth, Gallagher reaches both hands down to touch the Milkovich. It’s something Ian has been doing since they started fucking. He always is finding a way to keep his hands somewhere on Mickey’s body, and the fucker definitely preferred holding his hand. As one hand finds purchase in his hair, Mickey starts a silent count down in time with his bobbing. 

3, 2, 1…

Like clockwork Ian’s hand lands on Mickey’s forearms, only resting there for a second, before continuing down his arm to grip the hand Mickey has resting on Ian’s inner thigh. As Gallagher’s fingers curl into Mickey’s palm, Mickey responds with taking the man as far as he can into his mouth. Once he’s sure he won’t gag, Mickey hallows his checks, before pulling back till only the head of Ian’s cock is left in his mouth. 

“Fuck, Mick.” Ian's voice is even deeper and more breathy. 

It just makes Mickey even harder than he already was. His jeans are most definitely uncomfortable now. He should pull off, bend over the couch, and demand Gallagher get on him, but a quick glance up at the redhead delays his plans. The fucker is watching him, with blown pupils, and he keeps glancing at their hands resting on his inner thigh. Mickey can’t remember the last time he let a guy come in his mouth. Every other time he had blown Gallagher it was just to get the fucker hard and ready, but he suddenly really wants to taste all of Ian. 

Mickey increases the pace as he keeps his eyes locked on Gallagher’s face. When their eyes meet there is no mistaking the pulse of Ian’s cock in his mouth or the increase of Ian’s panting. His hand grips Mickey’s even firmer as Mickey keeps at it. 

“Mick, I’m…” 

Mickey doesn’t break eye contact as he shifts both his hands, working Ian’s dick a bit faster as his other lifts just enough so Mickey can grip Ian’s hand as well. 

“Oh, fu-”

Mickey can feel Ian start to pull away and stops the idiot with an unmovable grip on the base of his cock, as Mickey sucks him down again. Ian’s release quickly fills Mickey’s mouth. With every pulse the redhead slowly sinks further into Mandy’s sofa. 

It’s been a while since he’s had cum in his mouth and not the best tasting thing by far, but he must be one gay fucker ‘cause Mickey fucking likes it. As Mickey swallows he hears Ian moan and feels the hand that once was in his hair shift to pulling him up by his arm. Their tongues quickly wrap around each other. If Gallagher hadn’t just come Mickey swears the fucker would be getting hard from tasting himself in Mickey’s mouth. 

The Milkovich settles into straddling Ian’s bare lap, mindful of his now sensitive flaccid dick. The redhead seems to be in no hurry to switch their positions and neither is Mickey. Even in his late 20’s Gallagher had an impressive rebound rate. Mickey would be cumming with a cock in his ass some time that night and Gallagher already was working on undoing the button and zipper on Mickey’s jeans. 

“Hmmm if this is what mediating get’s me…” 

Mickey half scoffs, half chuckles at Ian’s words. That was another thing he could time, how quickly Ian would start gabbing after he’d blown his load. The redheads words didn’t stop Mickey from rolling his hips into Ian’s hand as it works its way into his undone jeans. 

“...I can do it anytime.” 

“Not too much of a hardship for ya?”

“Well, gotta do what I can for my best friend.”

“So, you just accepted ‘cause you were helping Mandy? Nothin’ to do with the fact that you’d have to find someone else to fuck for a few days while I was here?” 

“Good fucks are hard to find these days.”

“That right?”

“Uh huh.” Ian confirms as he grips Mickey cock just a bit harder, smiling at the Milkovich bites down on his bottom lip. 

“Getting real tired of that club scene?” Mickey teases in return. Ian freezes up at the comment, but recovers quickly enough, though not fast enough for Mickey to not notice. 

“Hmmm clubs are fine... found a guy I was interested in fucking more than once, not that long ago.” Ian words roll out of his mouth casually as Mickey’s eyebrows slowly climb his forehead. 

“Didn’t make my move fast enough, though. He ended up going home with some dumb ass with really wide shoulders.” 

It takes Mickey a second before the memory clicks and the irritation dissipates. He shakes his head before moving his hands from the front of the redhead’s shirt to rest on the wide shoulder in front of him. 

“What’s not to like about wide shoulders?” Mickey asks. Ian’s hand slows just slightly even after Mickey rocks more instantly in his lap. Mickey can see the jealousy the redhead was so desperate to hide. It was plain as day on his face the same way it had been that day at the coffee shop. “Better if they’re attached to a cock worth fucking though.” 

Ian perks up at that and resumes his strokes of Mickey’s cock. “He was shit in bed, huh?”

Mickey nods before looking down at Gallagher’s lap. The redhead was still limp, not like he was superhuman, but Mickey was getting a little too close, and he’d really prefer getting fucked to a lazy hand job. 

“How bad?”

Mickey looks up at Ian with one eyebrow raised. Were they doing this then, talking about the other people they fucked? Mickey wasn’t sure he wants to open up that can of worms. After all Ian could be fucking god only knows who else, and Mickey was only fucking him. Not like he had a lot of options. 

“You seriously want to talk about this while you’re jacking me off?”

Ian shrugs his shoulders, but continues pumping Mickey’s cock steadily. “Watched him crowd you at the bar. I was sitting in the back... was kind of waiting for you to deck him…” 

Mickey scoffs, remembering how the blonde dumbass had no idea of personal space. If he hadn’t been so horny he probably would have decked the fucker. He can’t help but wonder how much better his night would have been if Gallagher had gotten up the nerve to approach him instead. 

“Should of - Fuck...” Mickey loses all train of thought as Ian starts to twist his wrist and increase the pressure around his cock. “I’m about to ruin your shirt, man.” 

“He was complete shit then?”

“Ian, for fucks sake-”

“Tell me and I’ll suck you off-” 

“That’s-”

“-and then I’ll fuck you over this couch. We got all night Mick.” 

And fuck they do, don’t they? No way Mandy’s gonna be up early enough to drag him to another shity brunch place. 

“Fucker’s dick was half… fuck yeah.. The size of yours... and he had no idea what to do with it.”

Mickey barely finished his sentence before Ian was switching their positions. Gallagher easily lifts him and turns till Mickey is laying on his back. This is what Mickey had missed that night with that fucking blonde. He had never met anyone who could so easily man handle him the way Ian could, or was actually brave enough to try.

Ian kicks off his jeans and boxers that were still clinging to his feet as he moves himself between Mickey’s legs. Mickey wasn’t gonna last much longer as it was and definitely wasn’t as soon as Ian wraps his lips around his swollen cock and sucks eagerly. Mickey fingers quickly dive into the red locks on top of Ian’s head, just as Gallagher finds a perfect rhythm. 

“Dumbass was.. Fuck... just like that… blonde too.” Mickey stuttered out his eyes locked on Ian’s who was watching him intently as he sucks Mickey further into his mouth. Mickey tugs Ian’s hair as he thrust up just slightly, full on panting as Ian moans in response. “Redheads are what really get me going.” 

Ian takes Mickey all the way down his throat and the Milkovich cums hard. His whole world goes white and he’s just a step away from passing out entirely. The sex was never as good as this. Only Ian could make Mickey cum so hard he feels like he’s fucking floating. 

As he slowly recovers, Mickey keeps his eyes shut, but listens to Ian swallow his load and feels the man crawl up the couch to rest his head on Mickey’s chest. The fucker is heavy, but Mickey only raises his hand to card through Ian’s now sweaty red hair. 

“So... redheads, huh?”

“Ian?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Gallagher just laughs at him, hiding his chuckles in the side of Mickey’s neck. Maybe he should be irritated at that kind of reaction, but instead Mickey’s fighting his own grin as he feels Ian’s dick starting to grow while it’s pressed against his thigh. The taller man is definitely smelling him again too. 

“We should probably pull out the bed.” Ian suggests as he starts to sit up. Mickey wants to pull him back down. His hand even raises a few inches before he can catch himself. 

“The fuck for?”

“Beds do provide more room for fucking, you know.” 

“Yeah, smart ass, and there is a perfectly good one in the other room,” Mickey snarks back.

Ian frowns as he looks at the doorway leading to Mandy’s bedroom and then back down at Mickey. 

“We can’t fuck in Mandy’s bed,” Ian says with a shake of his head. Mickey’s eyebrows almost meet with his hairline. Gallaghers and Milkovichs might have been brought up a bit different, but there was no fucking way Ian was this prissy, not after growing up like they did. If a bed was free you used it. 

“You serious?”

“We can sleep in there, probably better if both of the beds look used anyway-” 

“Wait wait wait, you want us to bang on the pull out, and then get up and go sleep in the other room?” Mickey asks as he pushes himself up onto his elbows. The redhead is just staring at him blankly. 

“I can’t lie to your sister and fuck you in her bed. That’s just…” Ian trails off with a shrug. Mickey is still looking at him like the fucker grew a second head. “The pullout is pretty sturdy anyway.”

“Then why don’t we just sleep out here?” Mickey’s exasperation is only growing and now the fucker is smiling at him again. The redhead is all giddy like Mickey hung the damn moon. Mickey can’t see what the fuck there is to be smiling about when this fucker isn’t going to let him pass out right after blowing his next load. 

“Mandy’s bed is more comfortable.” 

“Jesus Christ, Ian.”

Mickey is more than ready to argue it out, but Gallagher has already jumped up and started pulling off the cushion. Mickey moves to help while grumbling under his breath, pausing only when Ian grabs him by the back of the neck. The kiss is fast and full of tongue, like they usually are, and just as quick as he started it Ian moves away. He leaves Mickey frowning at him, slack jawed, while Ian finishes setting up the pull out bed. 

They're standing on either side of it and Gallagher waves his hand over it, as if presenting something wondrous. Mickey just rolls his eyes as he pulls off his shirt and lays down on his side of the bed. It was already full made and even hand pillows shoved when it was a couch, but Mickey will concede the fact that it actually is rather comfortable and sturdy. 

Ian is still just standing there, still wearing his fucking shirt with nothing covering his lower half. He fucking smiling at Mickey again with that dopey ass look. 

“The fucks that look for?” Mickey asks his tone more inquisitive than threatening. Ian shrugs, shifting his feet before pulling his shirt off and climbing on top of the bed. 

“You didn’t suggest we sleep in separate beds.” Ian replies as he crawls the rest of the way over to Mickey. Mickey frowns as Ian looms over him. The dopey look is now replaced with something a bit more hesitant and Ian is looking at Mickey’s chest instead of his face. It’s like he expects the Milkovich to jump on that suggestion. 

“Harder to ride you in the morning if you're in another bed.” 

Ian’s eyes are back on his face and he is grinning as he leans down to kiss Mickey again. Mickey opens his legs as Ian settles between them, slowly rocking into his body. Sure, Mickey was enjoying the slow before, but now he just wants Gallagher inside him. 

“Ian,” Mickey breaths out between kisses. 

“Hmm?”

“Lube.” 

Gallagher kisses him one more time before peeling himself off of Mickey. He finds the lube in his bag and is quickly back on top of the Milkovich. He preps Mickey slow and then fucks him hard, just as promised, and neither of them last very long. 

Mickey wins the fight of sleeping in the same bed they fuck in easily enough. After he recovers Mickey throws his leg and arm over the redhead's body, pinning him to the bed. The last thing Mickey remembers before passing out is hearing Ian chuckle, “You win, Mick.” 


	25. Chapter 25

Waking up next to Mickey Milkovich is not something Ian thinks he will ever tire of. They had woken up one other time in the night, to go another round, before passing out quickly. Reaching for the Milkovich in the dark and finding him reaching back was good, but this was still better.

Ian had been up for an hour already. He had woken up with just a few seconds before his alarm went off, reminding him to take his meds. A quick pop of a few pills and he slid back into bed with Mickey, more than content to watch the sun glint through Mandy’s windows. 

The light just barely touched the older man’s face as he slept. A lazy morning with nowhere to be and no one to bother them was definitely something Ian wanted to happen again and again. If they were lucky Mandy would just stay at Kyle’s the whole week. Though if Ian was being truly honest with himself… he wanted to wake up next to Mickey for much longer than that. 

Mickey scrunched his face just slightly as the light continued to shift on to his eyes. Ian pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh. Even while sleeping it seemed Mickey couldn’t keep from showing a range of expressions. Mickey rolled over from his back, closer to Ian’s body, trying to subconsciously escape the increasing daylight. Ian held his breath as the Milkovich pressed more into his chest, practically nuzzling him while mumbling incoherently. He’d probably be awake soon, and Ian was committed to making sure Mickey's suggestion from last night was fulfilled. 

Ian leaned down, his hand hesitantly raking through Mickey hair and laid a soft kiss on the man's forehead. Mickey’s face scrunched up at the touch, but Ian continued on. His fingers softly stroked down the edge of the Milkovich’s ear, grazing his shoulder and down his back, finally landing on his bare ass. Ian’s grin grew as he watched Mickey’s face go from sleepy confused to grinning, all while his eyes remained closed. 

Ian shimmied down the bed just enough to have easier access to Mickey’s lips. Their breath was undoubtedly awful, but who gave a shit? Mickey opened his mouth easily and let out a sleepy moan as Ian sought out his tongue while pulling him closer. Ian’s fingers quickly pushed between the older man’s cheeks and found his still stretched out hole. 

His finger slid in easily enough, though Ian still sought out the bottle of lube he had jammed under his pillow the night before. As he pulled his lips away Mickey opened his eyes. Mickey panted as Ian popped open the bottle of lube and pulled his finger out of the Milkovich’s ass. 

“ ‘m good.” Mickey mumbled, hitching his leg over Ian’s hip. Ian only replied with a searing kiss as he coated his fingers and then quickly slid two of them back inside the man. “Ian….” 

“Hmm?” Ian’s tone was lazy as he continued to thrust his two fingers inside of Mickey, who was now rocking his hips back, trying to increase the pace. 

“Get, hmmm on me,” Mickey moaned out between Ian’s continuing kisses. A few more spreads of Ian's fingers confirmed Mickey was more than ready, but he continued the motion for a minute more just to watch the Milovich pant and squirm. As Mickey’s forehead started to crease with frustration Ian finally withdrew his fingers to grab hold of Mickey's thigh, still hiked up on Ian’s hip. The redhead rolled onto his back, pulling the Milkovich with him. 

“Then get to it,” Ian said with a grin. He watched the Milkovich quickly get comfortable with his new position before the older man raised his eyebrows as he raised himself up to hover above Ian’s lap. Seems he really was ready because Mickey wasted no time as quickly lined up with Ian’s cock. He sunk down, faster than Ian was expecting, causing the redhead to throw back his head with a moan. 

Mickey must have gotten his fill of slow and steady from the other night. Ian could barely take in the sight of him riding his cock so eagerly. The whole time those blue eyes were locked on his face. Mickey’s grin was pulling every fucking emotion out of Gallagher. Mickey always stared him down like this, ever since that time Ian blew him at his kitchen table. Seems Milkovichs don’t forget much of anything and now Ian was blessed with those gorgeous blue eyes watching him every time they banged. 

Fuck, it was the hottest thing. 

Ian knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, especially with that trick Mickey did with clenching every time Ian was fully inside him. Plus, Mickey had this habit of getting into the worst mood if He didn’t get to cum with a fully hard dick in his ass. Ian planted his feet on the futon and started to thrust up as Mickey sunk down. That combined with a firm grip around the Milkovich’s cock and those blue eyes started to flutter with overwhelming pleasure. 

“Fuck yeah,” Mickey moaned out, his voice still raspy from sleep. 

“Close?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m-” 

Ian cut off Mickey’s sentence with a few particularly well aimed thrusts. He grinned as he felt Mickey’s thighs start to shake and his walls clench around him. As the Milkovich sunk down one last time onto Ian’s cock as the redhead thrusted up, both locked eyes on each other’s faces. 

“Come on, Mick,” Ian groaned. He was doing all the work now, but he didn’t mind as long as he could watch Mickey’s face as he quickly tipped over that edge. That morning light cascading over Mickey’s naked body as he made a mess all over Ian’s stomach and chest… It was almost too fucking much. It took only a few more thrust for Ian to follow. 

Both men stayed in their positions as they caught their breath and finally let their eyes shut. Ian felt Mickey slide off of his cock only to collapse down beside him, his side still pressed into the Gallagher. It was then that Ian realized in their morning haze that he had forgotten to grab a condom. He should care. Ian knew he was clean, but Mickey…

The thought flew out of his mind as he opened his eyes and turned to look at the still recovering Milkovich. His cum was probably leaking out of the man... Fuck, if he didn’t think Mickey might give him a black eye for asking, Ian might suggest the older man to spread his legs so he could sit up and watch it leak out of his ass. 

Neither of them said a word. They just grinned at each other before slowly pulling themselves out of bed. Mickey headed to the bathroom while Ian used the sheet to wipe off the cum on his chest, pulled on his boxers, and grabbed his duffle bag; throwing it and his remaining clothes into Mandy’s room. Ian moved to the kitchen, getting the coffee machine up and running, before settling in against the counter. 

Slow easy mornings like this… he doesn’t think life gets much better. 

With Mickey yet to reemerge from the bathroom, Ian finds his phone to keep himself occupied, so he’s not caught staring longingly at the bathroom door. A few notifications, mostly from his family, one from his co-worker, and the last from an unknown number. He clicked on the last one only for his eyes to go wide. 

_**8:15 am** _

_ It’s Mandy using Kyle’s phone. Mine’s fucking dead. You fuckers better be up, My hangover needs waffles. Be there in 20. _

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” is all Ian could say as he realized it was already 8:32. Ian ran quickly into his best friend’s bedroom and messed up the bed. He ran back out into the living room, grabbed the bottle of lube to hide in his bag and gathered up all of Mickey's clothes, just as the man opened the bathroom door. 

“The fuck-”

“Mandy will be here in 6 mins.” Ian explained as he shoved the pile of clothes into Mickey’s arms. 

“What?”

Ian pulled out his phone and turned the screen to Mickey as the older man quickly pulled on his t-shirt from last night and his boxers. 

**_Ding_ **

**_8:35 am_ **

_ Ian wake up! You and Mickey better be ready when we get there! _

“Fucking Bitch, not like she has a -”

Both men froze as they heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door. 

Was anything left out? Both beds now looked slept in, so she wouldn’t notice right? Sure, the room smelt like fucking sex, but Mandy wouldn’t be able to tell with her hangover and the smell of coffee was starting to cover it. Didn’t they have her key?

As the door opened and revealed Kyle and a pitiful looking Mandy behind him, Ian wanted to smack himself in the face. If Mandy and Kyle practically live together why wouldn't Kyle also have a key to Mandy’s place?

“Oh good, you guys are up!” Kyle cheerfully greeted them as Mandy barreled past him and headed straight for the kitchen. 

“The fuck you up so early for?” Mickey asks. His question was directed more at Mandy, who was already pouring herself a cup of coffee. Ian watched amazed as Mickey just shoved his hungover sister to the side to pour himself a cup. Not a hint of nervousness. No sign that he had rode her best friend's cock or that his cum was crusting up in the sheets covering the futon.

Ian looked over to Kyle who was definitely looking around the room curiously before smiling at Ian. 

“You guys hit the hay pretty early then?”

“Uh yeah, we just crashed once we got back.” 

“Ow! The fuck bitch?”

Ian followed Kyle into the kitchen to see Mandy glaring at her brother while protectively cradling her coffee in her hands. 

“You made Ian sleep on the couch didn’t you, ass face!”

Ian chuckled a bit as he took in the two grumpy people both glaring at each other while sipping their black coffees. Plus it wasn’t like Mandy was wrong… Mickey did make him stay on the pull out. 

“Your my fucking sister, I get the damn bed.” 

“Family first, babe.” Kyle adds in. Mickey just glares back at him while taking another sip of his coffee. Poor guy doesn’t know that's not how you suck up to a Milkovich. 

“Pretty sure my bed back home is shittier than your futon, Mands.” Ian throws in causing his friend to roll her eyes before kicking her brother once again. 

“Bitch!” 

“Get dressed. I want waffles.” 

“So fucking make some. I’m not fucking waiting in no 40 min line for weird ass waffles.” 

There’s a place two blocks north that does her favorites. No wait there, especially on a Monday.” Kyle adds in. Again, Mickey just glares and doesn’t respond. 

“That place with the french name?” Ian asks.

“Yeah--” Kyle starts. 

“No, I'm done with fancy bullshit places that don’t understand scrambled eggs.” Mickey announces leaving Kyle stuttering and Ian shaking his head. 

Before Mandy can kick her brother again Ian quickly defends the place, saying the one thing that will get Mickey to go along. “It’s not that weird. More hipster kitschy, like Jina’s.”

Mickey’s eyebrows goes up at that, but he lets out a sigh and throws his coffee cup into the sink. Ian moves to the side, careful to not stare at the man’s ass as he leaves the kitchen to probably get dressed. 

“Jina’s?” Mandy asks and for a second Ian mind stutters, unsure how Mickey would want him to handle questions about the coffee shop. 

“Ahhh, one of the new places that moved into the neighborhood since you left.” 

“Mickey goes there?”

Ian’s sweating, he knows he is. Why does his mind stall out like this whenever he needs to keep his fucking cool? “Yeah...at least I think he does. It’s where I ran into him a few months back.” 

Mandy makes a face, but it seems her need for waffles is defeating her curiosity. Ian takes the pause as the opportunity it is and leaves the kitchen quickly, heading for Mandy’s room to change. He runs into Mickey leaving the bathroom, who grabs his arm as he looks over the redhead’s shoulder to make sure no one is behind Ian. 

“Why does he fucking have a key to her place?” Mickey whispers. His hand is still firmly locked around Ian’s bicep. 

“She practically lives at his. I should’ve figured he’d have a key to hers.” Ian admits back quietly. 

He should have thought about it, but he didn’t. Who the fuck knows how this morning would have gone if Kyle had opened that door just 30 minutes sooner. He can see the frustration in Mickey’s face as he continues watching the room behind him instead of looking at Ian. Mickey probably wouldn’t let Ian anywhere near him for the rest of the week now. 

Mickey is biting his lower lip as his mind whirls. Ian doesn’t know what the man wants him to do, but his hand hasn’t moved off Ian’s arm. After a few more minutes of silence Mickey’s hand drops, and it feels more final than it should, but Ian tries not to over think it and instead rushes to get dressed. 

***

Gallagher lied.

The french place with Mandy’s fucking waffles is not like Jina’s. More like some fucked up plastic version of it with really uncomfortable chairs. Mickey wouldn’t consider himself anywhere near good at drawing, but his shit was definitely better then the two year old scribbles this place had up on the walls. All the waitresses and waiters had on stupid frilly approns over their normal clothes. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mandy was already glaring at him, and that the menu seemed normal enough, Mickey would have demanded they’d leave. 

All four of them were smashed together in a smaller booth than the night before. Gallagher was still next to him, but this time Mickey was risking his shins. He was too aggravated at fucking Kyle, for having a fucking key, to sit across from him. Thankfully everything on the menu was all the same shit you’d see at any other diner. Even if you had to look through the swirly fucking letters to read it. 

“My name is Tony! I’ll be your waiter this morning. What can I get you folks?” 

The man bounces up with way too much enthusiasm for either of the Milkovichs in their current state. Both of them bark out their orders, leaving the two men seated next to them to try and lighten the atmosphere with a more friendly tone. 

“Strawberry crepes for me!” Kyle matches the waiter’s peppy tone which Mandy’ side eyes him for. Mickey’s kind of hoping the kicking will now be headed in Kyle's direction. Though from the idiot’s small grin he’s starting to think it was a bit on purpose. 

“Do you guys still have that basil speciality thing… God Mandy what was it?” Ian asks. 

“Oh, you mean the basil blueberry specialty tart? That was only seasonal sugar, but I’ll see if I can get the guys in the back to whip it up,” Tony quickly replies. 

Mickey whole body tenses as he watches this fucking Tony, in his stupid apron, wink at Gallagher. He glances at the redhead, his fist clenching on the table as he watches the fucker smile back at him. 

“Great, if not just three eggs and some toast. Oh, and coffee for everyone.” 

“Of course!” 

Mickey watches with increasing aggravation as fucking Tony practically sprints back to get the coffee pot. When he returns in under 30 seconds he waits till Ian has flipped over his cup to start pouring, even though both Mickey and Mandy had flipped theirs first. Ian was still smiling at the idiot. 

“Someone’s sure into you.” Kyle chuckles after Tony has pulled himself away to put in the rest of their order. Gallagher just laughs and takes a sip of his coffee. Mickey wants to pull his body away from the fucker, but this booth is way too small to get any distance, so he just continues tightening his fist. 

The waiter is skinny as they come. His hair is dark and buzzed on the sides. Tony’s got some stupid t-shirt and tight black jeans that reveal how small his thighs and ass are. He’s the type of guy Mickey’s brother’s would clock as a fag in under two seconds. No way Gallagher would be into the fucking twig…

“I’m just saying, twenty bucks says your receipt has his number on it- Ow!” Kyle continues to tease only to stop with a jerk and a quick look at Mandy. Mickey also turns to look at his sister, who glares at Kyle for only a moment before turning her death glare on to him. 

Mickey raises his eyebrows at his sister, waiting for whatever it is she’s about to bitch at him for when Ian speaks up “Not my type. Not by a long shot.” 

Mickey relaxes a bit at that, but his sister is still glaring daggers at him. In fact, she did this same shit last night too…

oh.

Mandy knows about Ian, but Mandy doesn’t know that he knows about Ian. His sister thinks he’s still a fag basher like the rest of the family. Far as she concerned he has no other reason to be resisting to take a swing at a fucker, other than the fact that he just realized he’s not just being served by some queer fuck, but sitting dangerously close to one as well. 

Mickey should be happy with that… right? His sister still firmly thinks he’s the straight, south side piece of trash he’s made himself out to be. That means she doesn’t suspect shit… can’t run her mouth. Given their close call this morning Mickey should be over the fucking moon. 

He’s not. If anything he feels fucking weird that his sister is so unsure of what he might do to Gallagher in the next few minutes. Ian’s picked up on their weird staring contest as Mickey thinks through what he's’ about to do. Ian starts pressing his thigh a little more firmly into the side of Mickey’s and even though Mickey won’t admit it, it’s that touch that puts him a bit more at ease. 

She can’t know about him… but she doesn’t have to think he’s well...like their dad. 

“Who gives a fuck? Flirt back and get us some free food.” Mickey snarks out as he turns to look at Ian. 

Gallagher’s eyes are wide as he stares back at him. The redhead has to shake his head as he gets his bearings before he can reply. 

“Seriously?”

“Free food is free food. Imagine the guy’s got wider shoulder and bat your fucking lashes at him.”

“Shoulders are nice, but it's more the lack of ass that’s the problem here.” 

“You not listening? I said imagine, and lay it on thick. I want free pie.” 

Ian’s laughing at him and Kyle’s now chuckling too. 

“Oh, so overly friendly is fine as long as it gets you free food?” Ian’s goads him a bit and Mickey knows it’s cause he fucking noticed how tense he was earlier. Unlike Mandy, he’s more likely to guess the correct reason. 

“For pie? I don’t care if you blow him in the alley. Plus, you fucking owe me.” 

He watches Ian’s face drop just a bit, and to hammer home that he’s fucking joking, Mickey lifts his foot slightly. Mickey subtly plants his foot back on the floor, on the other side of Gallagher's, so he’s trapped the redhead’s leg against the booth. Just like that Ian’s grinning again. 

“I owe you?”

“Yeah, this place is nothing like Jina’s. Fucking liar.” 

With that Mickey turns to look back at his sister. She’s wearing the same smile that she had at the airport, and fuck... it feels really damn good. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year I swear is nothing but craziness, but thank you so much to everyone still reading my little story. Since it's been so long I figured why not just post another chapter since I actually got some inspiration. Enjoy!

“A promise is a promise so I’m finding us a place to go!” 

“Mandy, really I don’t need-”

“It’s tradition Ian!”

“I didn’t come for my yearly visit though, this is about getting to know Kyle.” 

“Still applies.”

“Mandy…” 

Mickey listens to the two argue as he slowly comes to terms with what he has done. Who fucking knew he opened padora’s box of fuckery by showing Mandy he was fine with Gallagher being gay? Really, it was like the trigger of stupid shit for the rest of the day. 

Tony turned out to be the type who had no problem cornering a guy in the bathroom and offering to get on his knees. Barely had Ian gotten up from the table did the waiter follow him, only to be also followed by one Mickey Milkovich five minutes later. Opening the bathroom door Mickey was greeted with the sight of Ian pushing the guy off while the fucker was trying to unbutton Gallagher’s jeans. 

“Looky what we have here…” 

“Mick! It’s not-”

Mickey ignored the redhead as he watched Tony trying to stumble to his feet after being caught. Not like he was going to give him a chance to get a word in. “So what you serve your ass up along with the fucking pancakes?”

“Wwhat?”

“You heard me twiggy. This the shit you do with all your customers? Pour a few cups of coffee and forget about personal space?”

“I’m….I’m…”

“Yeah, what you’re gunna do is take half off our fucking bill, or I’m going have a lovely chat with what ever french fuck owns this place. Sound good?”

“…Ah ah, yeah?” 

“Good, get to it then.” 

Tony ran past the Milkovich as fast as he could, leaving Mickey to deal with the over friendly redhead in front of him. Who was fucking laughing for some reason?”

“This fucking funny to you?”

“Thought blow jobs in alleys were fine as long as you got your pie?” 

“Yeah alleys, this ain't a fucking alley is it?”

“That’s true.” Ian half laughed as he redid his pants and finished washing his hands. 

Mickey just watched him, hovering near the door. He had come in here for no other reason than to stop that stupid waiter from touching Gallagher, but now that he had done just that he was second guessing it. He cock blocked the guy … and yeah Ian didn’t really seem into it. He said at the table the dude wasn’t his type, but who gave a fuck about that once a mouth was on your dick?

He felt fucking possessive and fucking stupid. They fucked. Gallagher was friends with his sister. That was it. Mickey didn’t have any right to get pissy over some idiot will to drop to his knees for Ian. 

“Mick?”

“You didn’t...want… right?” Mickey stumbled over the words as pointed over his shoulder. 

“What? Oh, fuck no. Not my type,.” Gallagher pauses as he starts to walk closer to the Milkovich. “ like I said definitely need more of an ass.”

“That right?”

“Uh huh.” 

Ian stops an inch away from Mickey and the Milkovich definitely is entertaining the idea of getting on his knees himself. But his sister is outside with stupid Kyle. 

Mickey wasn’t expecting as they walked back to Mandy’s was his sister asking why Tony couldn't look them in the eye as they paid the bill. He really fucking didn’t expect Ian telling her exactly what happened as her and Kyle laughed along. Worse yet was how Mandy decided that Mickey’s cock blocking of her best friend must be remedied tonight... with them all going to a gay bar. 

“It’s a Monday night Mandy… no one good looking will be there.” Ian had been adamant with his objections, but all his excuses had proven useless. 

“You don’t know that. We just gotta find the right one.” 

“What about Leaky Eye?” Kyle suggested. 

Mickey wanted to punch him.

“Closed months ago. That place was a bit shifty anyway.” Mandy was madly scrolling through her phone, trying to find a good option. Her brother just sat on the chair across from her couch, wanting anything to take back his words from this morning. 

“Mandy really we don’t have to…”

“I promised you’d get your dick wet for coming out here and I keep my damn promises.” 

Mickey wanted to tell her that goal was already accomplished as of last night, and she was sitting on the evidence. Ian glanced pitifully in Mickey’s direction, looking for help. If Mickey knew this wasn’t going to lead to him having to watch some fucker be all over Gallagher while he probably jacked off by himself, then he’d laugh at the redhead. Didn’t matter if it had been 10 years or not, Mickey knew once Mandy was stuck on an idea she wasn’t changing her mind. 

“I doubt Mickey and Kyle would be up for it…”

“No worries man, I’m cool.”

Really could the dude try to be a little less punchable? For Mickey’s sanity at least. 

“See! And free beer is the same as free pie for Mickey, right?” Mandy’s question is accompanied with a glare. He can feel some old phrase he used to rattle off whenever he was around his brothers. Being thought of as a homophobic piece of shit might just be preferable to watching Gallagher leave with some fucking twink...but he just rolls his eyes instead. 

“See! Ohh I think I found one!” 

***

It’s not like the Fairy Tale. For one it's cleaner, two it's a lot bigger, and three there are way less old fucks around. No, instead they’ve all been replaced with hot dumb looking fucks and Mickey wants to punch every single one of them. The music though is just as loud and Mickey can only hear every other word Mandy yells into Gallagher’s ear. 

“What about him!” She screams and points very obviously to a guy who’s about Ian's height with brown hair several tables over. Mickey sucks down his beer ( one Ian was able to get for free from the bartender) as he watches the redhead check the guy out. After a minute Gallagher shakes his head and takes a short pull from his own bottle 

“When did you get so picky? He’s hot!”

“No way he catches.”

“How can you tell from over here?”

“Just can.”

“Any other qualities you're looking for?” Kyle asks eager to get involved for some fucking reason. 

“Dark hair, nice ass.” Ian replies with a shrug.

They are all standing at one of the three bars in the place. Mandy on Ian’s left with Mickey shoved between Gallagher and Kyle. The three are all facing out to the dance floor, accessing the men across the club. Mickey kept his gaze straight at the bar, and specifically on the man behind it who would get him more to drink. 

“Oh, what about him? He’s definitely staring at you!” Mandy screams out. Mickey gratefully throws back the new beer that's been placed in front of him as he waits for Gallagher’s reaction. 

“Too tall!”

“Seriously!” 

“I like them shorter than me.”

“That’s it! If you're not finding anyone then we’re dancing!” 

Mickey jerks his head to look as Mandy drags Ian away from the bar and on to the dance floor, and fucking Gallagher starts to move. Every stupid fuck with a pulse is watching him and Mickey hates it. 

“It’s really cool that you're here.” Kyle screams on the other side of him. Mickey just sighs. “Not like here, in the club, but like New York. Mandy goes on and on about you.” 

Is this fucker seriously trying to have a heart to heart in this place?

“Whatever, man.” 

“I’m serious. Mandy doesn’t talk about any other family. Well, she mentioned your other brother Iggy? But I know your opinion matters a lot to her.” 

So this was happening. His sister and Gallagher were dancing while he had to have a serious chat with Kyle while being served by a guy wearing only a vest and no shirt. Fuck it. It was better than focusing on whoever was already trying to grind up on Gallagher. 

“Alright fine, we’re doing this?”

Kyle just stared back at him. 

“Mandy’s been through enough shit. Enough dumb asses have fucked her over and she doesn’t need me or any of our brothers to handle her shit, got it?”

Kyle nods and Mickey takes another swig before continuing. “That red headed idiot is the only fuck that got away after making her cry though. Every other douchebag got what he was owed, understand me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He wants to stop there, but Mickey can’t help but think of that smile that keeps appearing on his sister’s face. That maybe this fucking puppy dog of a dude has something to do with it. “If she’s happy man, I don’t give a fuck. You being some rich ass fuck from another city doesn’t bother me. As long as she’s good, I'm good.”

“Well that’s good ‘cause I’m in love with your sister.” 

“She fucking know that?”

Kyle laughs and takes a sip of his own beer as he turns to look out at Mandy dancing her heart out. “Oh yeah, she knows.” 

The guy means every fucking word. That much is obvious with how god damn happy he is just watching Mandy, and Mickey hates him a little less for it. 

“I think Ian finally found someone!” 

Or maybe he hates him the same. 

Mickey turns to look over his shoulder and sees a built piece of shit dancing barely half a foot behind Ian. Gallagher’s looking at the guy over his own shoulder while he’s still moving his hips, as Mandy dances in front of him. He’s not telling him to fuck off. He’s not twirling Mandy in between them to keep the fucker off. He’s just dancing, waiting for the attractive fuck to put his hands on him. 

Mickey wants to break the guys knuckles. Instead he just turns back to the bar and taps it to get the bartender's attention.

“Whiskey, four shots!”

***

In the last two hours Mickey has learned that Kyle is way more tolerable once drunk, especially when he talks about the weird shit he and his frat bros got into in college. Sure, it’s not exactly the same, but replace the high grade fireworks they would throw into business with the AKs Mickey and his brother’s would use, and it was about the same amount of damage really. Mickey just didn’t have any rich parents to bail him out and keep arson off his wrap sheet. 

The other thing Mickey has learned is that not even six shots of whiskey will distract him from one Ian Gallagher. Especially since he lost track of the fuck. He was trying his hardest not to think of where in the club he could be, or if he was even still here, or if he was already nine inches deep in that fuck that was on the dance floor earlier. 

Six shots of whiskey will definitely make him need to piss though. Mickey moved away from the bar, now faced with finding the fucking bathroom in sea of half naked men. This whole fucking night felt like a weird ass dream. He was in gay club, in New York, with his sister, and it wasn’t going to end with him getting the shit kicked out of him. Oh, if only Terry could see him now. 

He makes it through a couple clusters of people only to be stopped five feet from the bathroom by someone grabbing his arm. Weird dream or no he’s still a Milkovich so his first reaction is to use his fists. He throws a punch as he turns to only hit air and stumble a bit. 

“Easy Killer! Just wanted to ask you to dance!” 

Mickey’s vision is definitely a bit blurry, but the guy is pretty good looking. He’s Mickey’s height and fucking blonde, but his jaw is similar to Gallagher’s and he’s actually wearing a shirt. The guy isn’t shy either cause he’s apparently taken Mickey’s moment of assessment as permission to take hold of Mickey’s wrist again. 

“I don’t dance.” Mickey states still just blinking at the guy, but he hasn’t shaken him off either.

“Oh come on, no way that ass can’t move a little.” 

Mickey just stares at him confused while the guy smiles. Mandy is gunna make sure Gallagher finds some fuck to go home with, and yeah Mickey can’t exactly leave here with anyone without tipping his sister off to who he actually is, but he could definitely still get blown in the bathroom. It’s better than jacking off alone on the pull out later tonight. The guy is pulling on his wrist again and Mickey is actually following him.

“There you are!” 

Mickey’s drunk yeah, but he knows that fucking voice. Suddenly there are even more hands on him. These, as they land firmly on his arm and back, are definitely familiar. Gallagher is now pressed against his back as he leans over his shoulder to mouth at Mickey neck. As Ian’s arm wraps around his waist Mickey feels the hand that was pulling on his wrist disappear, but he really couldn’t give a fuck. 

He turns around and looks at Ian for the first time in the last few hours. He’s dripping in sweat with his hair escaping some of the gel he used to style it before they left. Ian’s smiling and still got his hands on Mickey and now the fuck is leaning in, clearly about to kiss him.

Mickey’s drunk, but he’s not that drunk. 

He jerks away at the last second before Ian’s lips land. Mickey glares at him while Ian just raises his eyebrows at him. 

“The fuck?” Mickey asks hoping it thoroughly conveys all the other questions he wants to ask the redhead. The fuck is wrong with you? What if Mandy was nearby? Doesn’t he know they’re in fucking public? Why the fuck isn’t Gallagher trying to shove his tongue down the throat of the guy he was dancing with before? 

Ian just looks around at the club surrounding them. Mickey gets it. He knows what Gallagher is trying to say. They’re surrounded by other people just like them. No one gives a fuck, but that isn’t the problem. The problem is that his sister, who definitely will give a fuck, is hidden somewhere in the crowd of people. 

“Gotta piss,” Mickey says instead and practically runs to the bathroom. 

He’s grateful that miraculously the bathroom is empty of horny fuckers. No one’s getting rammed in the stalls and no one is on their knees. Just a few other fucks at the urinal that cleared out quickly enough. He gets to piss in peace, happy that the pounding music has been dulled behind the closed bathroom door as he tries to gather his thoughts. 

The fuck was Gallagher thinking?

Mickey’s barely finished washing his hands when the door opens, letting in that stupid fucking music. He looks up in the mirror to see Gallagher standing there nervously. But Mickey’s drunk and some of those stupid questions, plus a few others, are finding their way out of his mouth. 

“That fucking payback?” Mickey asks, happy his voice is somehow steady and not slurred. 

“What?”

“I cock blocked you so-” 

“You actually fucking liked that guy?” Ian asks the irritation in his voice clear as fucking day. He walks a few steps closer to Mickey, only to pause when Mickey hasn’t answered yet. Mickey hasn’t even turned around, still facing the sink. 

“Warm mouth is a warm mouth, right?”

Ian grimaces and then rolls his eyes as he walks closer. Gallagher isn’t saying anything, but he’s right behind Mickey now, and Mickey doesn’t know what the fuck he wants. 

“Mandy will be looking for you.” Mickey says as he finally turns around. Mandy is finding him someone else to fuck, some hot piece of shit so she can feel fulfilled in her best-friend duties. 

“Yeah, but she can’t really be mad when I got distracted by this hot guy in the bathroom, now can she?”

Mickey can’t really fault that logic and Ian’s reaching for him again. This time Mickey doesn’t move. He lets the redhead’s hands land on his hips and his tongue into his mouth. The leftover taste of whiskey mixed with Ian is fucking addicting and Ian’s hand is now between his legs. 

Someone could walk in. They would see them the minute they walked through the door, but who else is gunna walk in other than some dude who was probably looking to do the same? 

Ian pulls back to mouth at Mickey’s neck as he undos the man’s pants. Mickey’s hands are under Gallagher’s shirt clawing at the hard planes of muscle that feel so fucking good. Ian’s hands take only a few more seconds to wrap around Mickey’s cock. 

“A warm mouth is what you want right?” Ian asks and gives Mickey no time to answer before he’s on his knees and sucking the Milkovich down. Mickey has never been more happy that whiskey dick has never been a problem with him. Ian’s mouth is fucking perfect and Mickey takes even more pleasure out of knowing how much Gallagher wants to suck his cock. They’re in a fucking gay club, with his damn sister shoving every hot piece of ass at the redhead, and still he’s here on his knees for Mickey. 

“Ian fuck-” Mickey moans out cause he’s already so fucking close, but some one could just walk in ...

Ian seems to get it and opens his throat to take Mickey all the way down. Feeling the back of Gallagher's throat does him in. That with the fact that Ian’s been watching him this whole time, and continues to, as he swallows down his load. 

Mickey’s leg are fucking shakey and he has to staying leaning against the sink to keep himself standing as he recovers. He feels like a fucking pussy having to take so long to catch his breath, but Gallagher doesn’t seem to mind as he stands up. The fucker is grinning like the cat that got the cream. 

As Mickey comes to his senses he looks down, seeing Ian still hard as a rock in his jeans. They are pushing their luck. Someone will open that fucking door any second, but there is no way Mickey is letting Ian leave to go find someone else to help him with his situation. He’s about to drop to his knees to reciprocate when Ian grabs him by the front of his shirt and shoves his tongue down Mickey's throat. 

He can definitely taste himself on Gallagher’s tongue, but he’s more concerned with the fact that Ian is pulling him into one of the bathroom stalls and quickly locking it. Mickey just watches as Ian pulls a condom and packet of lube out of his pocket, before undoing his jeans. 

“I want your ass, Mick.” 

Fuck, if that isn’t music to the Milkovich’s ears. He pulls his pants and boxers down with a grin and Ian rolls on the condom and starts to slick himself up. Mickey lets himself watch just a few more seconds before turning around and bending over. 

The small bit of privacy the stall provides only does so much. Mickey is still hyper aware of every sound. He can feel the urge to tell Ian to hurry the fuck up, as the fucker slides just a finger inside of him. This is no time for any of that slow shit, but Mickey isn’t risking Ian leaving and finding someone else who’d eagerly do whatever the redhead wanted. But the dumb ass is taking his sweet fucking time. 

“Just do it.” Mickey half whispers. To which Ian withdraws his finger before draping himself across Mickey’s back. Mickey can feel those perfect nine inches lined perfectly with his hole. If Ian would just fucking move. 

“You sure?”

“Gallag- oh fuck!” 

The pace is punishing and perfect. There is no way Mickey is coming again so soon, but it doesn’t matter. Ian still feels so fucking good and Mickey loves listening to the redhead lose control behind him. Gallagher is grabbing at his thighs and the cheeks of ass, gripping him hard enough Mickey’s gunna have bruises in the morning. Seeing them later, knowing Gallagher put them there when he easily could be fucking any other idiot in the club right now, that thought calms that possessive part of him that had been building energy since that fuck head Tony called Gallagher, sugar. 

Ian doesn’t last long either. Mickey relishes his moans as much as he can, as they quickly are drowned out by the increasing music when someone opens the bathroom door. Both men freeze, listening closely to whoever is walking up to the urinal. Ian slowly pulls out of Mickey. Its seems like ages for the man to take a fucking piss as two tuck themselves back into their pants. Thankfully the fuck leaves and no one else enters, giving them time to exit the stall and catch their breath. 

Mickey doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he really wants to say anything. So he just watches Gallagher who is smiling back at him like there is nothing to worry about. 

“Round two when we get back the apartment, yeah?” Ian asks. Mickey just kisses him. 

***

Mickey finds Mandy back at the bar with Kyle. She’s sipping on something that is a mix of ridiculous colors while dancing just a foot away from the bar. Kyle’s still watching her with that love sick look on his face.

“The fuck is Gallagher?” Mickey yells out, stopping his sister’s little dance. 

Mandy just shrugs before taking another sip of her drink. “Finally saw something he liked and made off like a rocket.” 

“What guy caught his attention?” Kyle asks innocently. 

“Didn’t get a good look at him.” 

“That mean we can get the fuck out of here?” Mickey asks and Mandy laughs, though she is apparently finally taking pity on her brother. 

“Yeah, I gave Ian the other key. And I want fucking burger.” Mandy declares.

“Thank fuck!” 

Mickey’s clear exasperation with the whole place leaves Mandy laughing. Though his relief is about more than just getting some food and out of this damn place. With the Gallagher in possession of one key to Mandy’s place, and Mickey with the other, there’d be no repeats of this morning's surprise. Mickey had been more than a little impressed when Ian had explained his little plan. Small schemes seemed to run in the Gallagher blood. 

Now Mickey just had to close out his tab and get the fuck out of here. 

“Yo! I’m closing out.” 

“Leaving so soon?” The bartender wearing only the vest practically wines. Mickey is so fucking done with place. 

“Yeah, what do I owe you?”

“Oh you're all good, but you can take that with you.” The man smiles as he shoves a napkin across the bar to Mickey. It's got a phone number scribbled across it. 

“Looks like Ian’s not the only one who can get free drinks!” Kyle declares with a laugh. 

“Awe Mickey he’s cute!” Mandy chimes in laughing hysterically. 

Mickey just sighs. “Jesus fuck, let just get out of here.” 

*** 

“Grab a table and I’ll order the food.” Mandy says pointing to the corner. Kyle follows her instructions diligently while Mickey bawks at the idea that he can’t pick his own food. 

“Better not order any weird shit!” 

“Just sit down ass face.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes, but quickly pulls out his phone to text Gallagher. 

1:32 am

At some diner not far from Mandy’s. This shit place have dumb ass food too?

_ 1:33 am _

_ Red booths and checkered floor? _

1:34 am 

Yep

_ 1:34 am _

_ You’ll like it. _

1:35 am

Not sure I can trust you after the shit you pulled with that french place 

1:36 am

_ No tricks this time. Promise! _

Mickey quickly slides his phone back into his pocket before Kyle can notice. He slides into the booth to sit next to the window. Kyles just fucking staring at him and smiling. The fucker looks even more like a dumb puppy while buzzed. 

“So we got Ian taken care of. What about you?”

“The fuck you on about?”

“You can’t be the only one who doesn’t get laid this week.” 

The fuck is he suppose to say to that? Admit he just blown his fucking load in the bathroom at the club? 

“You just admit to fucking my sister yesterday?”

Kyle just laughs and continues on “Come on Mickey! You got a type?”

“Why would I?”

“Like someone who looks like your ex wife or someone who’s the complete opposite?”

Well that was easy to answer. “Fucking opposite.” 

“Okay! So…. Hair color? Height?”

Normally Mickey wouldn’t entertain the idiot, but he was still buzzed from the whiskey and Gallagher’s blow job so… “ Red, I guess.” 

“You like redheads?”

“Yeah man, their freckles and shit.” 

“Cool! rest of the week I’ll be on the lookout!”

Mandy thankfully returns to the table halting whatever type of conversation was fucking happening. The tray she’s carrying is huge with six different fries, three burgers, and three milkshakes. 

“Okay fuckers, dig in!” 

“You order the whole menu?” Mickey asks but definitely grabs two of the fries and pulls them closer to his side of the table. He dips one in the milkshake and pops it into his mouth. As the flavor settles over his tongue his eyes go wide.

“See! Fucking complaining for nothing.” 

“Why the fuck didn’t we eat here earlier?”

“Well I figured a snickers milkshakes is a decent fucking thank you. So yeah, Thanks Ass face.” 

“For what?”

Mandy shrugs as she digs into her burger before continuing.”For not being a dick tonight.” 

For not being like their dad. For not bitching and being a piece of shit while she played wingwoman to her best friend. She doesn’t say those other two, but Mickey hears them all the same. 

“Just gotta find Mickey a redhead.” Kyle throws in and Mickey groans. 

“Redhead?” 

The whole table turns to see Gallagher standing at the end of their booth, before quickly sliding in next to Mickey. 

“Ian!, Mandy yelled “I thought you were getting laid!” 

“Who says I didn’t?” Ian tosses back at her not hesitating to dip his finger directly into Mickey’s Milkshake.

“Nice!” Kyle adds in as Mandy hollars, “You slut!” 

“Get your fucking fingers out of my milkshake!” Mickey demands as he pulls the Milkshake closer to his chest as he glares at Gallagher. Ian just smirk back while licking the sweet drink off of his finger. 

“Not good at sharing Mick?” Ian asks while Mandy and Kyle both laugh at his antics. 

Mickey just snatches more fries to dip in his own damn drink as he stares the redhead down. ‘Cause Ian’s right. Mickey’s never been good at sharing. 


	27. Chapter 27

“Prissy EMT picked up for grand theft auto, huh?” Mickey let the words flow out of his mouth at the same time as the smoke, before grinning at Gallagher. He passed the joint he was holding back to the redhead, grinning as Ian rolled his eyes. 

Mandy and Kyle both had work for the rest of the week, leaving Ian and Mickey to their own devices till the late afternoons. With both keys in their possession Mickey had no qualms about jumping on Gallagher the minute they got back to Mandy’s after the diner. They fucked and slept, fucked and slept till 2pm the next day. Then they raided Mandy’s kitchen when their stomach couldn't be ignored any longer. 

Low and behold the treasure trove Mickey found in Mandy’s kitchen. Specifically the three perfectly rolled joints in a mason jar, shoved in the back of her cabinets. Now both men, in just their boxers and T-shirts, sat on the couch facing each other while passing the joint back and forth. 

“Prissy? Fuck you Milkovich.” Ian responded before grabbing one of the pizza bagels they had found in Mandy’s freezer. Thank god Mandy’s taste in food hadn’t changed that much. 

“Yeah, prissy! You didn’t get charged with shit. You didn’t even know the car was stolen, fucking goody goody.” 

Ian kicked him with a laugh, taking the smallest of hits off the joint. “Yeah, haven’t been in and out of jail my whole life unlike some people.” 

“Fuck you, whole life! I’ve only been inside twice, and the first time was juvie.” Mickey refuted reaching for the joint when Gallagher just continued to hold it instead of taking another hit. 

“What’d they’d get you on?” Ian asked eagerly. 

“First time? petty theft. Used to hit up some dumb ass corner store couple stops down. Fuckers finally wised up and got some cameras. Only got me on a damn candy bar, so I did a few months then I was out from overcrowding.” 

Mickey knows he gets talkative when he’s high. He knows Gallagher makes him want to talk even without the weed, so the combo could lead to him saying too fucking much, but just like every other time that stupid fucking smile puts Mickey at ease, and he’s not so worried about Gallagher learning too much as much as he once thought. Mickey guessed they were kind of friends….right? 

“Why didn’t you rob a place closer to home? Civic pride?”

“You mean like the Kash and Grab? No way, Linda would’ve shot me on fucking sight.” 

“Ha! Yeah, Linda would’ve. Kash wouldn’t have done shit though. You would’ve just had to time it right.” Ian agrees, but his tone has turned bitter and Mickey isn’t so high not to catch it. 

“Didn’t that fucker run off years back?”

Ian just nods with a forced laugh and says nothing else. Mickey waits a few seconds, just staring at Gallagher who is very interested in the rug all of a sudden. He finally kicks him and takes another hit as Ian sighs before finally answering. 

“We were fucking... when I worked there.” 

Mickey’s eyebrows hit his hairline. He’d kind of suspected Kash leaned that way, but he thought Ian had better fucking taste than that. 

“Fucking Frank caught us one day and told Linda when I wouldn’t give him everything in the register...so she black mailed him into giving her another baby. Said he could only fuck me again once she was knocked up.” 

“The fuck?”

“Yeah, took me longer than it should have to ditch him. A few months after I ended it He dresses up in berka and just walks out. Never saw him again after that.”

“Seriously? What were you like 14?”

Ian shrugs. 

“Fuckin' pedo. Wish I did rob his fucking store, could’ve bashed his face in while I was there.” 

Ian rolls his eyes as he shoves another pizza bagel into his mouth. Mickey lifts the joint, offering it to Ian again only for the redhead to shake his head as he swallows the rest of his food. Mickey kills the last bit of it and snubs it out in the ashtray they found hidden in Mandy’s bathroom. 

“That why you so nervous about some wife bashing your head in? Linda put the fear of Allah into you?” Mickey asks, ‘cause Ian might think he was slick checking around Mickey’s apartment for any evidence that Lana still came around, but he fucking wasn’t. 

“Linda was fucking terrifying, but Candace …”

“Candace?”

“I was seeing this guy Ned-”

“He at least younger than Kash and Grab?”

“Well…”

“Jesus christ, Ian.” 

“I was new to the club scene and the guy was loaded, Okay!” 

“Oh, so little bit of cash and gargling old man balls ain’t a problem for you?”

“Fuck off, He never gave me cash… just slept in some fancy suites and got some room service.”

“Uh huh. Then what? Candace breaks up your little rich holiday?”

“No. He was getting divorced and she locked him out of the house. Ned asked if I would break in and get back some of his things, said I could take whatever else I wanted…”

“Not bad I guess.”

“Yeah, my brother Lip and I just walk in and start grabbing shit, were doing alright when this stupid grandfather clock just goes off. Woke Candace out of her pill induced nap, next thing I know some 60 year old housewife is chasing us out of her house with a shotgun.” 

“You didn’t take any guns with you?”

“It was just one old lady! Didn’t think she’d come down the stairs like fucking Annie Oakley.” 

“Rookie Mistake.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah man, Me and my cousins would have gone in there with a repair van and had emptied the place out before the bitch even knew what was what.” 

“Uh huh sure,” 

“Leave the criminal acts to the professionals, fire crotch.” 

“Criminal slash artist. Really more artist if you’ve only been to jail twice.” 

Mickey kicks him harder this time and Ian just laughs, catching his foot and pulls the Milkovich closer to his side of the couch. It takes no time at all for them to be wrestling on the floor, grabbing each other to get the upper hand just as much as they are grabbing to touch the other’s skin. It ends as quick as it started. Mickey’s rolled Ian on to his back and is firmly sitting on his chest. He’s got Gallagher pinned with one hand while he pants above him, fascinated with how close Ian’s mouth now is to his cock. 

The redhead just chuckles, raising his eyebrows suggestively before asking “You wanna sit on my face, Mick?” 

“Think I’d rather fuck it.”

Ian just grins, but Mickey doesn’t end up going with either option. Instead he scoots back and then lays his whole body across Gallagher’s as he kisses him. The fucker’s got him addicted to this shit. Mickey never craved kissing dudes before. He was much more focused on getting a nice dick up his ass. Just a few months of this making out shit and he’s hooked. 

Mickey pulls his lips back for a moment to look down at the redhead and his stupidly attractive face. Ian doesn’t say shit. He doesn’t hurry Mickey up or even grab for him again, he just smiles back. 

“What time is it?” Gallagher asks after a few minutes, ‘cause key or no key Mandy will still be back promptly and banging on the damn door for tonight's round of bonding with the boyfriend. Mickey sighs and grabs his phone off the coffee table. 

“2:30 we got time.” 

“Not if Kyle gets off early like he was hoping.” 

“The fucker wouldn’t come here till Mandy got off…” even as the words spilled out of his mouth Mickey was starting to distrust them. Fucking Kyle might think it's the perfect opportunity for some stupid ass conversations. After all what type of person wants to heart to heart with their girlfriends brother in the middle of a fucking gay club? “...if he does I’m not opening the fucking door.” 

“Oh come on, you don’t hate him that much.”

“Sure is fucking dork, especially for Mandy….” Mickey trailed off as he thought about that first night at the bar with all four of them. “You like him?”

Ian shrugs with a smile, at least the best he can while still laying on the floor with Mickey still sitting on top of him. Ian’s not really in any hurry to move. “He seems like a good guy, as long as Mandy’s actually into him.” 

“You think she’s using him?”

“No… just she’s got a type.” 

“The fuck you mean type?”

“Well…. You don’t remember what my brother looks like do you?”

“Why the fuck would I?”

“He’s the one you beat the shit out of when you couldn’t find me. Think he wrote some english papers for you too.” 

Mickey just raised his eyebrows. Ian sighed before sitting up and pushing Mickey off him. He grabbed his phone and quickly clicked through the screens before handing it over to Mickey. 

“This is your brother.”

“Yup, that’s Lip.” 

“Kyle looks just-”

“Uh huh.” 

“Wait a second my sister banged your brother?”

“They were practically ghetto married for a while there.”

“What? When?”

“Shit that was, must of been pretty close to before we left....”

“You mean before she skipped town? Nah I knew the shit head she had been banging then. It wasn’t him” 

“Either way, Lip was a fucking dick to Mandy and Kyle…”

“Could be his fucking brother..”

“Yeah they're not identical, but I mean come on.” 

“No way Kyle is a Gallagher, right?”

“What?” Ian snaps and Mickey raises his eyebrows before continuing on. 

“Just saying didn’t Frank get around? Alibi regulars are always going on about some fucked up road trip your Dad was on and what bitch he said he fucked in between your Mom’s homecomings. Doubt he remembers every woman he dumped a load in. “

Ian’s just staring at Mickey as his eyes slowly get wider with each thought flying through his head. 

“Oh shit…wait no, Mandy’s met Kyle's parents. He can’t be a Gallagher.”

Mickey shrugged.“You're telling me Frank never tried to sell you or siblings for some extra cash?”

“Nope, no, not possible.”

“Just saying man, there’s like nine of you fuckers, just counting your siblings.”

“There are only six of us and it’s not like your family is any better! Isn’t half the state penitentiary filled with your cousins?”

Mickey knocks Ian’s feet out from under him for that last comment, but he quickly recovered and grabs for Mickey till it’s the Milkovich pinned to the ground this time. They’re both fucking laughing as they catch their breath again, that is till Ian decides to roll his hips. This time neither stop at just kissing. 

Mickey’s gunna get rug burn on his back with how Ian is hiking up his shirt to kiss at his stomach, but it’s the last thought on his mind as Gallagher drags his boxers off his legs and gets between them again and pulling off his own clothes. The lube is right there on the coffee table, Ian grabs it and one of the condoms fast as he can. In less than a minute Ian is slamming all nine inches of his cock into Mickey. 

“Fuuuuck!” Mickey moans as he wraps his thick thighs around Ian’s waist and grips at his arms. Ian’s thrusting in hard and then pulling out slow, and Mickey’s savoring each second of it.

“God Mickey your ass…” Ian trails off as he rams in once again. “Fucking perfect...fucking perfect for me the way you take it.” 

Mickey just grips at him harder cause he doesn’t know what to say. All he knows is Ian’s voice is pushing him closer to the edge and he wants him to keep talking and thrusting. 

“You like it like this?” Ian asks, punctuating the question with sharp thrust. “Like when I slam into you and pull it out slow?”

Mickey claws at his back as Ian slows down even more on the pull out. He squeezes his eyes shut as he pants and feels Gallagher pause with just the tip of his cock still in Mickey’s ass. 

“Come on Mickey. You like it don’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck Gallagher, come on!”

“What do you like Mickey?” 

Mickey opens his eyes and the redhead is fucking grinning at him, and of fucking corse that only turns him on even more. The hell is Gallagher doing to him? 

“I like it when you fucking move!”

Ian just laughs and slams in again. Mickey moans in relief before he realizes the fucker is pulling the same shit again. 

“What else Mick?”

“Fucking just…” 

“Just what?”

“Fuck me Ian, come on.”

“Fuck you how? 

Mickey tries to thrust up himself, but Ian’s hands are now locked on his hips, pressing him into the floor, keeping his cock just barely inside the Milkovich 

“Gallagher please…” Mickey is begging, fucking begging. 

“Please what? Tell me what you want Mick”

“Fuck me, fuck me hard!” 

“Yeah?” Ian says as he finally starts fucking moving again and giving mickey just what he asked for. He’s thrust hard and fast, no longer lingering on the pull out, and in no time they're both so close. Ian’s panting just as much as Mickey is, that is till the fucker latches on to Mickey’s chest, biting and mouthing at the flesh of his left peck

They both fall apart at the same time. Mickey making a mess across both their stomachs. When the Milkovich gets his bearings Ian is already pulling out of him and tying off the condom. They’re both still breathing heavy, but Gallagher is not looking him in the eye. Instead his eyes keep shifting to the cum spread across Mickey’s stomach and his chest. Mickey pushes himself up on on to his arms and looks down his body seeing the mess Ian seems too fascinated with, but then he fucking notices the huge purple blotch on his skin, It’s accompanied with marks only teeth could make. 

Gallagher gave him a fucking hickey. 

Mickey quickly thinks through all the shirts he brought with him and rules out the few tank tops shoved to the bottom of the bag for the rest of this trip. The mark would barely peek out from the top, but that is all Mandy would need before she would jump down his throat.

“Got a bit carried away…” Gallagher mumbles.

Mickey looks up to him and sees how fidgety he is. He’s nervous cause Mickey should be pissed. Even if he wasn’t in New York with Mandy so fucking close, a mark in such an obvious place when summer was in full swing was not something Mickey ever would have allowed to happen before. Especially not one this dark. The few marks Ian had left on him in the past months barely lasted longer than a few days, and not like that mattered when they were on his thighs. This thing was gunna last a week, easy. 

The longer Mickey goes without saying something the more Ian starts to shift. The thing is Mickey is trying to work up the fucking anger. He should be angry. He should be god damn livid, but that same part of him from yesterday, the part that loved that Ian found him in the club and fucked him in the bathroom, it's that part that keeps Mickey quiet. 

So he doesn’t say shit and just grabs Ian’s wrist and pulls till the dumb ass is kissing him. Ian quickly moves closer and wraps his hands around Mickey’s neck and face as he sinks into the kiss. When Mickey pulls back is when he’s finally found his voice again. 

“Mouthy fucker.” 

“Hmmm You like my mouth.”

“I do?”

Ian just smiles as his hands drop to Mickey’s shoulder. His fingers lightly trace over the mark he left and if Mickey wasn’t mistaken the fucker looks a little proud of himself. 

“Okay move, you fucking vampire.” Mickey states as he pushes Ian out of the way so he can stand. Mickey can feel the rug burn that is on his lower back as he stretches, before heading the bathroom to shower. He’s not the least bit surprised when Ian follows him in. 

*** 

  
  
  


**Bang Bang Bang**

“Just a second!” Ian hollars as he half jogs to the door. Him and Mickey had barely finished getting dressed when the knocking started. The Gallagher opened the door to find one very annoyed looking Mandy who had a phone tucked under her ear and two grocery bags in each hand. Confusion set in till he remembered Mickey texting Mandy while they were raiding her kitchen about her lack of supplies. 

“Numb nuts I told you this already!” Mandy spoke into her phone as Ian grabbed the bags out of her hands. A quick peek revealed several tubes of barbecue Pringles, a handle of vodka, and a frozen pizza. 

Ian mouthed out Kyle’s name, but Mandy just shook her head before sighing into her phone “Well it’s not my fucking issue Iggy, and I don’t really give a shit.”

Ian quickly brought the bags into the kitchen and started unloading while his mind whirled with what Iggy wanted from his sister. 

“Well Mickey’s hasn’t been in the can for over four years, so why can’t you idiots manage the same?… you serious right now?”

Ian is full on hovering behind Mandy now, trying his hardest to hear whatever it is that Iggy is saying on the other line, He’s surprised Mickey hasn’t appeared yet with how loud his sister is talking. 

“Whatever asshole,” Mandy quickly hangs up the phone only to then yell. “Mickey!” 

“What?” Mickey calls back from the other room. 

“Were you planning on telling me Colin is in prison?”

Finally Mickey emerges from Mandy’s bedroom. Ian can’t help but check the man out from behind Mandy. Even in just a grey t-shirt (that covers the now dark purple hickey) and jeans with his hair still damp from the shower Mickey looked good. The Milkovich has got one eyebrow raised as he stares down his sister, walking past her like he can’t be bothered by her question. 

“You got the barbecue Pringles right?”

“Mickey…” Mandy groans and Ian just stays silent watching Mickey starting to riffle through the grocery bags.

“You forgot the dip.”

“Oh my god! Assface! why is Collin in prison?”

“Thought you didn’t want to know about this shit, remember? The fuck you care for now any way?”

“Iggy’s going off about how Dad has the money, but he won’t bail him out ‘cause it’s your problem?” 

“He asking you for the cash?” 

Ian just keeps as quiet as he can as both of them keep asking questions without answering anything the other is asking. Neither of them has asked Ian to leave or given so much as a side eye showing they were uncomfortable with him hearing them talk about the Milkovich family business. 

Mandy never talked about what her brothers did before. Even in the past the most Ian would overhear was someone in the Milkovich house complaining about a run that needed to be made. Now Mickey never took any calls from his family around Ian. He’d answer the phone and after a few sentences was walking out of room to handle the conversation elsewhere. 

Ian knew from the neighborhood about the drugs and guns, but he was still curious. Now after these last few days with Mickey, he was worried. If Collin was already locked up how close was Mickey to ending up behind bars? Why was Terry saying it was Mickey’s responsibility to bail his brother out? Too many questions that all lead to the Gallagher picturing only getting to see Mickey with a piece of glass between them. 

“Why wouldn't Dad bail him out?”

“Maybe cause Colins a dumb ass and only in the can ‘cause he never double checks shit.” 

“Bullshit! If you were behind bars Dad would have you out in a second!”

“But he doesn’t have to ‘cause I keep my shit clean! I double and triple check that nothings out of fucking line. Then when all those stupid fucks get lazy and call me I go and triple check their shit. So excuse me for one night for not answering the damn phone after my shit was done. I’m not using my damn money on bailing the dumb ass out ‘cause he didn’t vet the fucking job, like I told him to a hundred times before!” Mickey finished his rant by flopping down on one of Mandy’s kitchen chairs and shoving chips into his mouth.

Mandy just sighed, rolling her eyes before finally saying, “There’s already dip in the fridge.”

Ian just stood there as the memory of the day that Mickey kicked him out of his apartment bubbled to the surface. Mickey didn’t answer his phone that day ‘cause Ian asked him not to. His brother was locked up 'cause instead of checking in like he usually would he let himself be distracted...with Ian. The redhead watched as Mickey got up and retrieved the dip. Ian waited for him to settle back in and to finally look in his direction, just give him a little sign that it’s fine; nothing is wrong and nothing has changed, but Mickey keeps his eyes glued to the kitchen table. 


	28. Chapter 28

“Can you fucking believe him? and then Iggy just asking me for that kind of cash? Dumb asses, all of them are fucking dumb asses!” Mandy rants as she and Ian looped her block for the third time. 

After Mickey’s rant he just got quiet and wouldn’t look at Ian or Mandy; just sat at the kitchen table aggressively eating his Pringles. Mandy, unable to take it anymore when every question was met with silence, stormed out of her apartment with Ian close on her heels. Out of the two he thought maybe this Milkovich he could actually calm down… though he had yet to get a word in. 

“Like this is why I haven’t talked to them in years. It’s this shit with them in and out of the can, and never fucking telling me why and always, fucking always, doing the same shit and pointing at each other-”

“Mandy…”

“- and Mickey never fucking listens! He is more stubborn than any of them. He’d have the best fucking thing right in front of him and wouldn’t say a damn thing to keep it walking out the door, all to fucking keep Dad off his fucking back!” 

“So you want Mickey to bail Colin out?” Ian asks as Mandy pauses for a moment to breath.

“What?” Mandy half yells, whirling around to face Ian. “No, I don't want him to bail him out!” 

“Then why are you mad at him?”

“Cause he keeps letting this happen!”

“So you're mad he didn’t double check whatever Colin did?”

“No! I’m mad ‘cause he won’t get away from this shit. I’m mad ‘cause I know exactly what he’s going to do, Ian. The minute he gets back to Chicago he’s going to take whatever money he’s saved and bail Colin out, even fucking though he had to throw in cash to cover Iggy’s shit three months ago, and he had to cover for Jamie six months before that. 

I’m mad cause he’s gunna cave like he always does when my piece of shit of a father calls him and makes the demand himself, instead the rest of our stupid siblings. ‘Cause Mickey always talks big till fucking Terry finally shows up and then my brother is back in that stupid house wasting his fucking life away.” Mandy ends her rant panting on the sidewalk. 

Ian smiles oddly at the people walking by, who are staring at them with wide eyes, before pulling his friend to the side. But apparently she still wasn’t done yet. 

“He fucking got his own place and I thought maybe, maybe he’d turn this shit around and get away from it ...” Mandy mumbles out now and Ian reaches out to rub her arms as the tears gather in her eyes. “If he could just make a bit of cash legally, see that the world doesn’t work how Terry says … the others would follow too ya know? Iggy was already talking about finding a place with Jamie…”

“Maybe tell him that, Mands.” 

“Did you see him up there? He doesn't even talk and dodges all my questions!”

“Then don’t ask him anything. Tell him. Say that Colin is a dumb ass and he shouldn’t fucking pay for it. Tell him he’s right that he should get to have night where he doesn’t answer his phone and if he breaks down and bails his brother out then he’s a fucking pussy.”

Mandy laughs before saying, “Oh yeah, that’ll go over great. That the Gallagher way of communicating?” 

“Nah, mostly we just talk shit and not say anything till there needs to be an intervention or something,” Ian states with a laugh before continuing, “I’m just saying, If I thought you were mad at him for not doing it then maybe he thinks you are too.” 

“If he’s even still up there…”

“You’d think he’d leave?” Ian asks with the panic starting to creep into his voice. 

“Maybe? He hates when I get in his shit. Does his stupid disappearing act and won't pick up the phone. He can’t afford a plane ticket, but the bus...” Mandy ends with a shrug as she stares at her shoes, which means she doesn’t see how nervous her friend is quickly getting. 

“Wanna head back then before he has time to pack?”

“Walk with me for a couple more rounds first? If I go back now I’ll just bite his stupid head off.”

Ian nods, but he can’t help but look up at her building with a bit of longing before following his friend. 

***

“The fuck are you asking Mandy for Colin’s bail money, dip shit?” Mickey yells into the phone as he walks circles around his sister’s living room. 

“We’ll you haven’t done it yet and Dad’s already planning for the next shipment-”

“So what? The fuck would pull Mandy into this shit for?”

“You wanna off load all those oozies short handed, bro?”

“I think I’m already short handed with you dip shits missing half your fucking brain cells. If Colin is fresh out and has a hard ass PO then the heat will be even worse than it is now. You think of that dumb ass? You want some fucker with a reason to just pop in whenever they want poking around the house?” 

“We could just prep the shit at your place...”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Not fucking happening. None of you are going anywhere near my place.”

Mickey rubs his forehead as Iggy rambles off another dumb ass excuse only to furrow his brow even more as another call starts coming in from a number he doesn’t recognize. 

“Iggy, just don’t fucking do anything stupid till I get back. Can you fucking do that?’

“Back? The fuck ar-”  **Beep**

“Hello?”

“Mickey, Hey! It’s Kyle!”

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“Mandy gave it to me. I would have called her or Ian, but neither of them are answering their phones…” 

Mickey frowns even more till he sees Mandy’s purse still on the back of the kitchen chair and Gallagher’s phone sitting on the coffee table. The idiots must have left without them. 

“They left their phones here.” 

And him here, the two just stormed out so fucking appalled that Mickey would leave his brother to rot in cell. Mandy, Mickey understood, but fucking Gallagher was mad at him too? Fucker was the whole reason he had ignored his phone in the first place. Neither of them fucking knew how much of a god damn idiot Colin ways these days. Honestly, it was pure luck that the cops hadn't picked him up sooner. 

“Oh, Well then any idea what the plan is for tonight? I just got off work so…” and Kyle is riddling off dumb suggestions into Mickey’s ear. Mickey just sighed. Clearly Mandy hadn’t clued her puppy in that no one was talking to him right now. 

“I don’t give a shit as long as there is beer.” Mickey cuts the other man off.

“Cool, how about I just meet you guys at Taylor’s? It’s not gimmicky I promise! Just a chill dive that’s got limited craft brews.” 

“Where is it?”

“About 15 Minutes east of Mandy’s.” 

“Fine, see ya there.” 

“Oka-”  **Beep**

Mickey paced back and forth for a few more minutes, glaring at Gallagher’s forgotten phone as he waited for his sister and Ian to return, but his impatience had already hit its limit. If they were just gunna walk out with out a word then fuck ‘em. Kyle was actually tolerable once Mickey got him half way to shit faced and it was better than waiting around for the fuckers to turn up and still be pissed at him. Plus, If Mandy wanted to nose into his business and stir up shit then fine, not like he couldn’t do the fucking same. Mickey typed out a text he knew his sister wouldn’t get till she got back, telling her what the plan was before heading out to fuck with Kyle. 

***

**BANG BANG BANG**

“MICKEY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” 

**BANG BANG BANG**

“I can’t believe we both forgot our phones.” 

“Well if I wasn’t livid at MY ASSHOLE BROTHER then we wouldn’t have and one of us would’ve remembered the key.” 

**BANG BANG BANG**

“Mandy I don’t think he’s in there.” Ian said, hoping any minute Mickey would swing the thing open and prove them both wrong. 

“I knew the fucker would just ditch, UGH!” 

“Maybe he went for a walk too?” 

“We would’ve seen him. He’s probably already on a bus and half way out of the fucking city. Pussy piece of shit! UGH.” 

**BANG BANG BANG**

“I don’t think the doors just gunna open Mandy.” 

“No... but it makes me feel better.”

Ian let Mandy glare at her own front door for a few more minutes before nudging her with his shoulder. “Building manager lives on the bottom floor?” 

“Yeah, fuck let’s go.” Mandy groaned out before leading the way. 

Thankfully, the manager was home and was able to let them in. Ian almost shoved past the middle age man with how slowly he was finding the key. 

“Thank you so much Mr. Stevens.” Mandy thanked the building manager as the door finally swung open. Ian walked in first, scanning the family room and kitchen for any of Mickey’s things. His heart only dropped when he saw nothing lying around. 

“Mick?” He called out, not really expecting an answer, but still hoping. Did he really just take his stuff and leave? Ian moved into Mandy’s room and a huge wave of relief hit him as he spotted Mickey’s duffle bag and clothes still spatter across the bedroom floor. Mickey was still here, just not here here. 

Ian headed back into the family room and found his phone on the coffee table. He grabbed it, checking for any notifications. No missed texts or calls. He’d hoped that Mickey would have at least let him know where he went if he was giving Mandy the silent treatment. Apparently fuck buddies don’t get courtesy texts. 

“I promise Mr. Stevens, it won’t happen again.” Mandy concluded as she finally shut the front door and turned to look at Ian. 

“His clothes are still here.” Ian informed her. 

“Really?” Mandy asked as her aggravation seemed to just dissipate at the thought that her brother hadn’t just left without a word. “The fuck did he go then?”

Ian shrugged and Mandy sighed as she moved to the kitchen and riffled through her purse. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” 

“What?”

“He’s with my God Damn boyfriend!”

***

“Sure you're not adopted?” Mickey asked Kyle as he took a swig of his beer. The bar isn't bad, still way cleaner than most places Mickey frequents and the bartender had some weird shit happening with his mustache, but it would work just fine to drink the afternoon away. Good a spot as any to mess with his sister’s boyfriend. 

“Is this about Mandy’s ex? What was his name? God it was something stupid…” Kyle mumbled out as he looked up to the ceiling, as if it would hold the answer.

“She told you?”

“Oh yeah! Freaked her out a bit in the beginning when I first was taking her out. We look alike, apparently? Similar eye shapes and the nose too I think she said...” Kyle scrunched his face as he talked and Mickey was just getting more and more irritated. 

His idea of fucking with Kyle was quickly turning into a non-starter. He couldn’t threaten the fucker when he worked for the Feds, couldn’t terrify him with any of the Milkovich stories for the same reason, and now every damn thing he keeps thinking Mandy might have hid from the fucker turns out to be something he already knows. 

“And you’re fucking fine with that?” 

“I’m the one that is with her, right? His loss, my gain and all that. What brought that up?”

“He’s a Gallagher.” Mickey mumbled around his beer bottle as he took another swig. He needed another beer or three.

“Gallagher as in Ian?”

“Yep.” 

“Oh... did Ian bring it up or something?“ 

“Mentioned it, I didn’t really remember the guy, but the picture Gallagher showed me was fucking weird.” 

“That similar huh?”

Mickey just nodded, killed his beer, and immediately singled to the bartender for two more. 

“Mickey, you okay?”

Mickey frowned at the idiot next to him, rolling his eyes before grabbing the beer placed in front of him. 

“I’m not trying to pry, just... you seem tense, well tenser than usual.” 

Mickey doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, but Kyle just sits on his barstool as patient as can be. 

“You got any siblings?” Mickey asks ‘cause he’s just fucking tired and apparently it wasn’t Gallagher or the weed from earlier, today has just made him a fucking talker for some reason. 

“Rylie, younger brother.” 

“He a dumbass?”

“Well…. I mean I love him sure, but more often than not he’s calling only when he needs money. So it puts a strain on things.”

“He broke or something? Thought your family was loaded?”

“In a way? He keeps starting these businesses. Start up nonsense that makes no sense. I mean just because you say ‘It’s like Uber for pet grooming’ doesn’t mean it's true. He’s always taking a bunch of money from investors, how he keeps finding them I’ll never know, only for the business to fall apart. Then I'm getting a phone call and paying back everyone he took money from.” 

“Sounds about right, my fucking family wants me to use up all my cash to fix my dumb ass brother’s problems too.” 

“Iggy?”

“No Colin, Iggy’s on my ass for it though, even fucking Mandy is ragging on me for it.” 

And Gallagher. Mickey thinks, but doesn't say it out loud. He hates that he’s so pissed that Gallagher is actually pissed at him. His dumb ass brothers he can handle. Mandy’s weird pushy shit he can get over, but when Gallagher just followed his sister out without a word… Mickey hadn’t expected that. Though maybe he should have. If Gallagher had a brother in jail he’d probably be pulling every scheme he could think of to get him out.

“Really?” 

Kyle's question snapped Mickey out his thoughts. “Yep.” Mickey states with a smack of his lips and chugs the rest of his 2nd beer. 

“Huh... it’s just, Mandy is always pushing me to tell Rylie to go fuck himself.’Let him fall on his ass and clean up his own mess, Jesus christ Kyle!’” Kyle raised his voice a few octaves as he attempted to Mimic Mandy. He ended his buffoonery with a shrug like she was standing in front of him instead of Mickey. “I’d have thought she would tell you the same, especially with how often she’s going on about how you two were the only ones in your family who have any sense.” 

Mickey just blinks at Kyle as he fiddles with the label on his beer bottle. He really doesn't have anything to say to that ‘cause Kyle can’t know the full story, and leaving your brother in jail is different than making him repay his own debts. It would probably take everything he’s put aside, including the mural money, but if Terry was already chomping at the bit cash would be flowing again soon. Mickey could call his Dad, have him front the money and take it out of his cut for the next job and Collin would be out by tomorrow morning. That way he’d still have cash on- 

“Ow The fuck!” 

“Ass Face!” Mandy declared as she punched Mickey in the arm again. “Don’t just leave and not tell me!” 

“Bitch! I texted you, not my fault you fucking left your phone!”

“Ugh, I need a drink! This fucker left with the only key and Ian and I both were locked out of the apartment!” Mandy told Kyle as she snagged his beer after kissing him on the cheek. “Had to get Mr. Stevens and everything.” 

Mickey flinches as Gallagher pulls himself on to the barstool next to him. Couldn’t even be in the same room as him before, now the fucker has to be right next to him? Mickey turned to glare at the redhead only to find Ian looking at him with a weird ass look on his face. 

“You both fucking stormed out without your shit, how is that my fault?” Mickey snapped and he didn't look away from Gallagher. Ian's whole face scrunches in confusion. 

“I didn’t storm out, I just needed a walk.” Mandy states and then kicks Mickey when he still hasn’t stopped glaring at Ian. “You didn’t call Dad did you?”

Now Mickey’s confused ‘cause surely talking about Terry in any way was not a good idea around Kyle. “The fuck would I call him for?”

Mandy sighed, but then she bites her lip and takes a deep breath before nodding “Good, and let Colin sort out his own shit. If you cave just ‘cause Iggy and Jamie whine about it then you’re a fucking pussy.” 

Mickey’s eyebrows hit his hairline. The fuck was with this 180 shit? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, douchebag. You bail those idiots out enough as it is. Let them learn a fucking lesson for once. If Dad has such an issue with it he can fucking do something about it.” 

Mickey feels like he’s got fucking whiplash as he just blinks at his sister. 

“See! I told you!” Kyle declares causing Mandy now to whip her head around, before turning back to Mickey in shock. 

“You told him!”

“Just vaguely babe…”

Mickey just blinks as Kyle calms Mandy down only to flinch again when he feels Gallagher’s knee tap his own. He pulls his leg away only for Ian to tap it again a few more times, clearly trying to get his attention. Mickey ignores him and opts to just chug the other bottle of beer in front of him. 

He almost does a full spit take when that knee turns into a full hand that is now resting on his leg. Mickey recovers quickly though, slamming the bottle back on the bar and swallowing before checking to see if Kyle still has Mandy’s attention. 

Sitting at the bar does not give them anywhere near the same amount of cover sitting at a booth did. If Mandy would just turn around it wouldn’t take much for her to notice that her best friend still hasn't moved his hand off Mickey’s knee. Mickey turned his glare on Ian as he mouthed out silently ‘Move your fucking hand.’

Ian opened his mouth to respond, his eyes wide with concern, but Mickey wasn’t having it. As subtle as possible he grabbed Gallagher's hand and threw it off his leg before looking away. 

“... so I was telling Mickey it just seemed weird given what you're always telling me to do with Rylie.” Kyle concluded. 

“Obviously! You two both do too much for assholes who don’t appreciate it!” Mandy huffed out before finishing off Kyle’s beer. She glanced at Mickey, who was back to aggressively peeling the label off his beer bottle. “And Ian said I was being confusing as fuck earlier... so If it wasn’t clear I agree with you douche bag.” 

Ian said? Mickey just furrows his brow more. So neither of them are mad at him? So all that shit earlier was just fucking nothing? The fuck? 

“Whatever,” Mickey mumbles out and sure he’s relieved, but mostly he’s still irritated.

“Okay so, just so I got it straight, Mickey, Colin, and Jamie are your brothers, and your cousins are…” Kyle asks and Mickey just tunes him out. He wants another beer, but the fucking mustache bartender is at the other end of the bar, talking to other patrons. Mickey can see Ian in his periphery, watching him, and he doesn’t know what to fucking do about it. Doesn’t know if Ian really agrees with Mandy or not. He doesn’t get why the fucker left without a word if he wasn’t mad and doesn’t know if he wants Ian to try and touch him again. 

The day started fine. How did it get so fucking tiring so quick?

“Glad you're still here…” Gallagher mumbles out, just quiet enough that Mandy and Kyle won’t overhear. 

Mickey doesn’t know what the fuck he means and it is more than evident by the expression on the brunette’s face. So Ian continued, still keeping his voice down, “Mandy was worried you’d headed back to Chicago…when you weren’t at the apartment” 

Mickey may not get every subtilty when it comes to this communication bullshit, but he sees this subtext clear as day. Ian was worried he left too. 

“Well, I’m fucking here aren’t I?”

Ian nods, but he’s still staring at Mickey like he’s some animal he’s trying not to spook. Kyle and Mandy are still distracted. 

“Told Iggy off for asking Mandy for the money… you’ll make sure she doesn’t pay it either, yeah?” Mickey asks quietly and Ian nods with a small smile then looks over Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey can still hear Mandy listing off their distant relatives. He jerks a bit when he feels Ian’s leg tap his once again. 

The redhead opens his mouth, but then closes it again as he stares at Mickey, clearly fighting over what he wants to say. Mickey just waits him out, not sure if he wants to hear it or not. 

“How much shit are you gunna have to deal with when we get back?” Ian finally settles on asking, and Mickey can tell there is more than this question rolling around in Gallagher’s head. 

“More shit to do with Colin out of commission, but the dumbasses always keep me busy.” Mickey mumbles out ‘cause this is weird. Ian and him don’t talk about the Milkovich business shit. The labels on all the beer bottles are all piles of bits now and Mickey’s hands are still fidgety. He’s got nothing else to stare at now other than Gallagher. 

“Too busy for me?” Ian’s voice is so quiet Mickey barely hears him.

Mickey should take this opening. He should tell Ian yes because the man is a fucking distraction and now he’s not just some hot guy who’s dick is addictive. He’s Mandy’s best friend… fuck Mickey thinks Ian might be his friend too. A friend that he fucks that he doesn’t want touching other people. He’s too attached. One wrong move and it’s not just his ass in Terry’s line of fire, but Ian’s too. 

Mickey bites his lip before asking “Don’t you have a bunch of double shifts to cover when we get back?”

Ian’s whole expression drops as he nods and Mickey doesn’t know if he’s about to ask for too much, but fuck it. 

“...Could spend the time between them at my place.” Mickey suggests. 

It’s like he flipped a switch. Ian’s whole face lights up with a grin as he nods and nudges Mickey’s leg. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Ian whispers back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one more chapter after this in New York and then its back to Chicago for the boys.


	29. Chapter 29

Mickey keeps expecting this lucky to run out eventually. He knows he's living on borrowed good times, and at some point he’s gunna have to pay up with a pile of bullshit, but for now he’s fucking basking in it. 

He’s basking in the fact that every morning he has woken up to Gallagher trying to get on him. He’s basking in the fact that somehow this shit will continue once they're back in Chicago. He’s basking in the fact that his sister is with someone who makes her happy and isn’t a total piece of shit. Right now he’s basking in the realty of sitting in a normal fucking diner, with regular coffee, and eating normal eggs, thank fuck!

“Can’t believe this week has flown by so quick!” Kyle baggers on in between bites. 

If he wasn’t so fucking perky about it Mickey might agree with him. New York, at least the part Mandy lived in, wasn’t too bad. Seeing Mandy and knowing she was safe, and apparently happy with her new bougie life, set his mind at ease. Especially since he was pretty sure she had Kyle so pussy whipped that she could take all his fucking money in the middle of the night and he would still thank her for her time. 

“It's a bummer I have to work late tonight, can’t see you guys off, but we’ll just have to plan a trip for Mandy and me to head over to your neck of the woods.” Kyle says casually. 

Mickey just raises his eyebrows at this sister sitting across from him. Who is suspiciously looking very intently at her eggs. 

“Wait, seriously?” Ian asks, also now staring at Mandy. “You’d come back to Chicago?”

“Only for a few days…” Mandy trails off as she picks at her plate. “Maybe around the fall, before it gets too cold?” She finishes and glances up at Mickey. 

“The fuck you asking me for?”

Mandy rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Where else would we stay douchebag?” 

Mickey looks between his sister and fucking Kyle, who’s just smiling at him, before he realizes they’re serious. “No, absolutely fucking not.”

“Why?” Mandy demands

“I got no place for you to sleep, not all of us can afford weird ass Swedish couches.” Mickey says and then points to Kyle with his fork while still looking at his sister. “And you really want this fucker walking around our neighborhood looking like he does?”

Kyle looks down at his shirt, a light blue button up with short sleeves (like his outfit was the only cause for concern), before looking back at Ian as if what Mickey said made no fucking sense. 

Ian just laughed as he said, “You’d get robbed in two seconds.” 

Mickey nodded in agreement as he pointed at Ian, before turning to his sister. “See, get a fucking hotel.” 

“And what stay on the fucking north side?” Mandy asks. Mickey just shrugs

“It’s only a 30 -40 minute ride on the El.” Ian offers. 

“Where we’d get probably get robbed on the way back to the fucking hotel every night. It’s better if we stay with you.” 

“We could just ride up to you.” Ian suggests. “Northside is still Chicago and there's plenty of places we can take Kyle.” Again Mickey nods in agreement as he finishes swallowing his last bite of eggs. He doesn’t really know any places, but the idea of Kyle poking around their neighborhood was nothing but bad. Just bring a Fed to where every fucker had their own little scheme going, that definitely wasn’t gunna end well. 

“Oh, but I was hoping to see Mandy’s old stomping grounds. You know, at least get a feel for where she grew up.” Kyle adds in. 

“What? You need to see the bleachers where she blew half the dudes in high school?”

Mandy quickly kicked her brother, hard. 

“Ow bitch!” 

“Fuck off! You weren’t even in high school long enough to know half the guys!” 

“No, but I sure as fuck sold to them. Want me to start naming names? Had to knock enough teeth out from the dumb ass running their mouth. Like I’d want to hear that shit about my own sister.” Mickey finished with a shiver of disgust as he grabbed his coffee. 

“Try it, most those fuckers were talking nothing but shit. I never went near them.” 

“You want him hearing this?” Mickey asks as he points at Kyle again. 

“Hey, I'm just the rich ass who actually gets to keep her.” Kyle says as he throws up his hands.

Mandy smirks victoriously as she kisses her boyfriend on the cheek.

“You actually remember anyone from high school? I mean I was with Mandy’s for a couple of years and you didn’t remember me.” Ian adds in. 

“You are never gunna let that go are you? Plus you never went on about how you finger banged her.” Mickey states and turns back to his sister “You’re still not staying with me.” 

“Give me one good reason.” 

“Bitch, I just gave you two.”

“I want another.”

“Fine, you have big fucking mouth. That’s why.”

“The fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“Your dumb ass would find out my address and then in a few days you’d slip up and say some shit to Iggy. Then I would come home to find all our shit head brothers drinking all my goddamn beer. So no, you are not staying at my place.”

“None of them know where you live?” Kyle asks and Mickey just scoffs as he shakes his head. 

“Do you even have girls over?” Mandy asks and Mickey rolls his eyes. He can feel Ian's eyes on him as the redhead is starting to put two and two together. 

“I had enough of some bitch always being up in my shit.”

“Oh my god. How do you get laid?” Mandy asked rhetorically as she sipped at her own coffee. 

Mickey ignored both his sister’s comment and Ian aggressively knocking his knee under the table. 

***

As he left the diner, and headed to work, Kyle thought to himself of all the things he learned over the past week. Meeting his girlfriend’s best friend and her brother had been extremely illuminating on several fronts. 

Ian and Mickey’s treatment of Mandy gave him a bit of reassurance that she had some people looking out for her during the less than glamorous times in her life. The few things she had mentioned previously about her father had set off so Many alarm bells, Kyle almost called in a special favor till Mandy told him to back off, and since then shut down any conversation remotely having to do with her old neighborhood. Seeing her interact with her brother gave him enormous insight to the part of her world she normally kept under tight lock and key, and apparently he passed the test, ‘cause all Mandy could talk about the night before was them planning a trip to Chicago. 

The most revealing of all though, was how utterly oblivious his girlfriend was.

Kyle had always known Mandy had some blinders on. If something didn’t involve her directly she was more likely to look right past it than ever take note of it. Like how she immediately thought he was stalking her and her friend… when he was actually investigating her criminal of a boss. She was incredibly focused whenever she wanted something, that stubbornness and drive was one of the Many reasons he fell for her. But god did she miss some shit that was pretty obvious.

It was more than evident that first night at the bar that Ian was into the other Milkovich. The man was trying way too hard to not look in the guy's direction, only to turn into a full smitten puppy whenever Mickey addressed him directly. Kyle knew of Ian’s preferences from the many overheard phone conversations between him and Mandy, but from Mandy’s own account of her brother Kyle was pretty sure it was just a one sided crush; one that would only end badly. 

Kyle had hoped to bring it up to Mandy once they were alone, but if Mandy was oblivious when sober then she was completely blind when she was drunk. So he waited for a better moment to mention it. His suspicions only increased as he caught the two men standing extremely close, for two guys who were just childhood acquaintances, upon opening Mandy’s apartment door. Ian just looked concerned while Mickey seemed in a constant state of agitation. Kyle would have pointed out several things to his girlfriend right then, possibly saving her friend some heartbreak, if she wasn’t terribly hungover. 

Then Kyle witnessed the odd behavior of her supposedly straight brother during their breakfast at the french place. He swore Mandy finally picked up on it as well, that is till Mickey went off on his tirade about Ian flirting with the waiter for free food. He might have just taken it as Mandy had, Mickey showing his sister he wasn’t nearly as close minded as the rest of her family… but then the waiter followed Ian into the bathroom.

With Ian’s pure delight in telling the story of Mickey scaring off the poor waiter and Mickey just rolling his eyes as he blushed, Kyle was suddenly wondering if the crush was returned. Mandy still seemed completely oblivious as Ian shot down all her suggestions for places to go out. She also missed her brother stoney silence when she didn’t back down. She missed Ian constantly glancing back at Mickey at the club when he should have been pursuing the guy’s Mandy was pointing out. While she witnessed her brother’s increased drinking to get through the awkward situation she missed that it was paired with Mickey also constantly glancing in Ian’s direction.

Kyle didn’t want to push either of the men when he needed to impress them both, but the damn tension was getting ridiculous. He was a bit relieved when on his own way to the bathroom he witnessed Ian wrapping himself around Mickey’s back and mouthing at the Milkovich's neck. Clearly Ian was staking his claim as another guy walked away, but then Mickey was jerking away from him.

Kyle wasn’t so sure what the outcome would be of Ian following the man into the bathroom. He tried to keep his distance, give the two some privacy, but there was only so long that a man could control his bladder. He had been surprised, after entering the club bathroom, to find it empty. He figured he’d at least catch them in an awkward conversation. That is until he spotted the two sets of feet, both wearing shoes he had definitely seen before, in the stall farthest from the door. 

So they were definitely into each other. 

At Taylor’s the other night, he had been so sure that Mickey had gotten into a fight with Ian, or that he was trying to work up the nerve to tell his sister he was gay. While Mickey was quiet and grumpy normally, unless a certain redhead showed up, this was a whole other level. Plus, there was the giant hickey that was clearly evident whenever Mickey shifted and the collar of his t-shirt moved a few centimeters over. A hickey that was definitely made in the last 5 hours. 5 hours that Kyle was pretty sure Mickey spent entirely in Mandy’s apartment, smoking her hidden stash, if the slight weed smell lingering on his clothes was anything to go by. 

But then Mickey’s mood turned out to be about a family disagreement. With Mandy so closed off about her family Kyle would take any small bit of information he could get his hands on. Turns out he was half right as when Ian and Mandy showed up Mickey was almost vicious with how he threw Ian’s hand off his leg, that is till Mandy mentioned it was her friend that had calmed her down. 

Surprised at his girlfriend's willingness to explain the long and twisting Milkovich family tree, Kyle almost missed the subtle conversation happening the next seat over. Whatever it was bothering Mickey it seemed to have dissipated, as both him and Ian were grinning by the end of the night and acting back to normal the following morning over breakfast. 

Kyle wasn’t sure yet if he’d clue his girlfriend in once her visitors left. Maybe it was something better left to them to decide when they wanted to tell people. After all, it wasn’t like Mandy was going to figure it out unless one of them yelled it out right in front of her. 

***

“Sooooo?”

Mickey sighed and refused to look at Gallagher. They were both waiting in the airport. (Mandy had booked them the same return flight) Mandy had hugged them both goodbye at her place, before they headed off to take the subway. Mickey hadn't really been prepared for his sister squeezing the life out of him. Her lecture about staying out of the can, at least until her visit, was more her speed, but the tears in her eyes as she pulled away made his whole chest clench up. So he gave her a titty twister to make sure she wouldn’t miss him too much. 

She hugged Ian the same way, after kicking Mickey so hard his shin was going to be bruised for weeks. Mickey scoffed at her insistence that she’d help him find a good guy when she visited, Ian had just laughed at the suggestion and told his friend she had found a good one herself. 

Mickey was jerked out of his thoughts as Ian nudged his knee to get his attention. 

“What?”

Ian held up his hand with three fingers raised, clearly ready to count down. Mickey just groaned. He knew this was gunna be a fucking thing. 

“So your ex wife has never been to your place, Your brothers don’t even have your address, and even Mandy isn’t allowed to know where you live.” 

“What of it?”

“Oh nothing, just realizing I’m the only person you’ve let in your apartment.”

“You're not the only person…”

“Oh?”

Mickey looked around them quickly and seeing no one sitting ot close to them he continued, “ took at guy home once, fucking whiney piece of shit, had to physically push him out the door the next morning…” Mickey concluded with a shrug.

“And after him?” 

Mickey rolled his eyes again, refusing to answer the question. 

“Gotcha, just me.” 

“I didn’t say shit.” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“What, you think your fucking special?”

“Feels that way, I have special access.” 

“Oh, fuck off.”

“So you don’t want me to come straight to your place after we land?”

Mickey paused biting his lip before asking “Thought you had work?”

“Double shifts don’t start till tomorrow...if you don’t have plans?”

It’s a question, but it sounds like a fucking statement. Mickey kind of wants to tell the redhead to fuck off with his smug face smiling at him like that, but the idea of getting to fuck again in his own bed... without worrying of who’s gunna walk in or bang on the front door…

“Do what you want.” Mickey answers

“Okay,” Ian says with a smirk as he nudges Mickey’s knee once again. 

Mickey pretends the warmth in his chest isn’t there, ‘cause in just a few hours they’d be back in the south side, where even that small bit of contact might get him killed. He knows things are going to change with every mile closer they get...at least that’s what he thought. 

Cause even though they had seats three rows apart Ian charms his way into the middle seat next to Mickey, giving up a perfectly good window seat for no fucking reason. He doesn’t do anything stupid like try and hold the Milkovich’s hand, but he does make sure his knee is pressing into Mickey’s leg the whole flight. It’s that contact that keeps that warmth filling Mickey up, and he expects it to dissipate the minute the plane lands. 

Then Ian is walking just close enough that their shoulders brush every third step as they walk through the airport. Ian is sitting next to him the whole ride on the L and he doesn’t even try the knee thing, but he’s going on about all the difference between the CTA and the New York subway system and Mickey thinks it’s his voice that is keeping that warmth there. A couple of transfers and later and they're finally walking the last ten blocks to Mickey’s place. Chicago is warm and muggy now that its mid July and Mickey could blame this fucking feeling on the weather. 

As he unlocks his own front door the Milkovich breathes a sigh of relief. Nothing was touched. No one has broken in and trashed the place while he’s been gone. His apartment is still all his and still safe. 

“Want a beer?” Mickey asks as he throws his duffle bag on the floor and Ian follows suit. The door shuts behind them, Ian turning the dead bolt and securing the chain. 

“Hm, maybe later.” Ian replies and Mickey doesn't have to turn around to know the fucker is smirking. Sure enough, Ian wraps his arms around Mickey as he nuzzles his nose into his neck. The warmth in Mickey’s chest only expands as Gallagher’s hands start wandering. It’s only when he’s back in his own bed, with Gallagher’s hands undoing his pants with the redhead’s lips latched on to his own, that Mickey finally stops waiting for the good feeling to dissipate. 

He’ll run out of luck eventually. He always fucking does, but for now he’s taking everything he can get and basking in it.


	30. Chapter 30

Why did the summer bring out the truly idiotic? Was a question Ian had been asking himself ever since he became an EMT. Crime, including the violent kind, seems to almost increase in time with the changing temperature. The amount of stabbings, limbs blown off from improper use of fireworks, and overdoses the Gallagher had seen since his return from New York was becoming a bit ridiculous, even by the south side Chicago standards. 

Not to mention the stupid shit that Carl was pulling, something about undercover work? Ian really didn’t want to know.Debbie’s work had finally stopped striking and she was back on a normal schedule, but there was some love triangle thing she was on about that he didn’t really understand. Why is it that the minute one sibling decides to calm down the others feel the need to have a crisis? At least Liam and Lip were fine.

Although between work and spending his nights at Mickey’s he had been avoiding most of his siblings drama. Ian had been dragging his ass to Mickey’s apartment every night he could manage it the past two weeks. Even though he was exhausted he made sure to rally just enough so he could get the other man off before passing out. Tonight was going to be another one of those nights. 

He knocked on Mickey’s front door, his eyes already drooping as we waited for Mickey to open it. The door swung open and Mickey raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight of one exhausted Ian Gallagher.

“You look like shit.” 

“Thanks,” Ian mumbled as he walked in and immediately collapsed onto Mickey’s couch. He ignored the older man's huff of indignation. Ian was too tired to care if Mickey had an issue with him making himself at home. Ian is half way to drifting off when he feels a cold drop land on his forehead. He opens his eyes to look up and sees Mickey laughing at him and holding out a beer bottle that was dripping with condensation. 

“Shove over, you're taking up the whole couch.” 

Ian sighed as he sat up, taking the bottle from Mickey while he settled in next to Ian. Ian took a quick swig of his beer only to place it on the coffee table as he stared at the lounging Milkovich. Mickey was flicking through some random channels, his whole body relaxed as he rested his own beer on his thigh. He was still a whole 5 inches away from where Ian was sitting and Ian wasn’t here for it. 

Ever since they got back from New York it seems like he had to tiptoe around touching the Milkovich, outside of them banging. Mickey seemed fine with them drinking a couple beers and watching a movie, but if he so much as grazed the man’s arm Mickey would pick up the pace and have Ian’s pants around his ankles. Not that Ian minded that just… he was too tired to do the weird dance of pretending he didn’t want to be touching Mickey all time.

He just wanted to wrap himself around the Milkovich, get off, and fall asleep for a few hours before his next shift. Honestly, with how drained he was, the getting off part was completely optional in his mind. The other two parts were definitely not. 

Ian grabbed Mickey’s arm, the one holding his beer, and lifted it as the Milkovich turned to watch him with his eyebrows raised. Mickey’s grin quickly faded when instead of kissing him or sucking on his neck, Ian just rested his head on the Milkovich’s lap while wrapping one arm around his waist. Mickey’s own hand, still holding his beer stayed raised as he looked down at Gallagher nuzzling into his stomach with his eyes closed. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

“Sleeping.” Ian mumbled back as if what he was doing wasn’t weird as fuck. Ian knows, as the silence extends, that Mickey is trying to figure out what his angle is. He knows the Milkovich has a thousand thoughts running through his head, but he’s too tired to worry about which the man is going to land on. “I’ll blow you in a bit, just need a few minutes…”

Ian waited for the biting reply or shove that would land him on the floor. Instead he felt Mickey’s arm finally relax and rest on Ian’s back. 

Ian get’s an hour and a half before Mickey is shaking him awake and pushing him into bed. Both men just fall asleep for a few more hours, till Mickey’s phone starts ringing at 2 in the morning and now it’s the Milkovich who has to deal with stupid people. As promised, Ian sucks Mickey off before he heads out. With the click of the lock Ian dozes off In Mickey’s bed for a few more hours of blissful sleep. 

***   
  


The next morning Ian wakes up and Mickey is still gone. It’s becoming a regular thing now that Mickey needs to leave at random times, and Ian is left waking up alone in his bed. At least the sheets still smell like the other man.

Thankfully, Ian’s never ending double shifts were coming to an end. Today was the last day and then he’d have a few days off to catch up on sleep, hopefully check in on his family, and hang out with Mickey. Hell, maybe they’d even get to stop in to Jina’s for fucking once. It had been forever since Ian had actually sat at one of their tables instead of just running in for a desperate caffeine fix.

He pulled himself out of Mickey’s bed, took his pills, and raided Mickey’s kitchen for a bit of stale chips before heading over to Jina’s for his morning jolt. Seeing both Sam and Kenny mulling around like zombies as the coffee shop opened definitely made some part of Ian feel less resentful. He was happy he wasn’t the only one being run into the ground as of late. 

“Full strength again? You doing okay?” Sam asked as she typed in his order. Ian just nodded with a smile, but he knew the circles under his eye did nothing to help convince her. 

“Is it ironic if an EMT dies from the exhaustion of saving other people?” Kenny asked as he fished out a pastry from the case. Sam just rolled her eyes and snapped for her coworker to hurry up. 

“Hey you and Mickey are friends, yeah?” Sam asked as she filled Ian’s cup.

“Uh, um yeah, I guess we are?”

“You know if he’s doing okay? Haven’t seen him come in over three weeks.” 

“Oh, I think he was in New York visiting his sister.” Ian offered, unsure of how to explain the sudden increase in the Milkovich business taking up most of Mickey’s time. Mickey not coming into Jina’s was a bit worrying though. Ian hadn’t seen him pick up a pencil once since they got back. No new sketches of him or of anything else had popped up in Mickey’s apartment either.

“Cool, well if you see him tell him Jina wants this back wall done,” Sam pointed over her shoulder to the wall directly behind the coffee bar. “Said she’d add another 500 to what she paid for the one outside.” 

Ian nodded with a smile as he took his coffee. He didn’t say anything else before heading out the door. Was that okay telling Sam and Kenny that him and Mickey were friends? While Mickey had never outright stated it, Ian was pretty sure the Milkovich had some odd rules about who could even know they knew each other. But they had sat next to each other dozens of times in Jina’s. They had joked around, talked with both the baristas; surely it would have been weirder if Ian denied it... 

Plus did it really matter if it saying they were friends comes with Ian telling Mickey he’s got another 4 grand coming his way? Mickey hadn’t mentioned having to bail out Colin since he got back, but with how often he was talking to his brothers on the phone it was more than obvious Mickey’s Dad was running him into the ground. 

Mickey had said he looked like shit the other night, but Mickey really hadn’t looked much better. Maybe the mural would be enough to get him sketching again and hopefully leave more the Milkovich business to his brothers. 

Ian signed, too tired to worry about it further as another call came over his radio. Just one more shift, just one. 

***

The end of that shift turned out to be even more chaos. As Ian checked his phone after changing he noticed six texts and two missed calls from one Mickey Milkovich. He quickly went to read them only for his phone to ring again. 

_ “The fuck have you been?” _

“I’m just getting off work-” 

_ “Asshole, get the fuck out of my fridge!” _

“Mickey?”

_ “Not you … Fuckhead what did I say!”  _

Ian frowned as he listened to clearly another voice complaining in the background, only for Mickey to sigh exasperatedly before wincing. 

“Mick?”

_ “Just get your ass to my place, Gallagher! _ ” And with that he hung up, leaving Ian staring at his phone in utter confusion. 

***

Mickey really didn’t want that much. He wanted his privacy, enough sleep, his brothers to not be such dumb asses, and to get plowed by one particular redhead on the regular. Really, it wasn’t that much, but apparently the universe did not give a single fuck. 

With Colin back behind bars there was a shit ton of slack to pick up, more shit to file, more collections to make, and less time for Mickey to double check all the other shit. He was running on fumes, which was why he was fucking hoping no other shit would go wrong. 

You know, like the wife of the fucker who didn’t pay up for the last six months having a goddamn shot gun. The universe could have thrown him a bone, made sure the bitch had shit aim, but no. Oh no, the bitch knew what to do with a gun and she had shot Mickey right in the fucking ass. 

“Nice place, bro.” Iggy declared as he kicked open Mickey’s front door after fiddling with the key. He was barely helping Mickey stand as they hobbled their way through the front door.

“Just shut up and help me to the table.” 

That was the other thing. With no other option Mickey had to tell Iggy where he fucking lived which was something he knew he was going to regret later, same way he knew that he had to call Gallagher and hope the fucker knew what to do about a fucking bullet in the ass. 

Iggy helped him limp over to his shitty kitchen table where he could lean over. Immediately Iggy was starting to poke around, glancing at everything of value. Mickey wanted to tell him off, but could barely think with the pain. He could feel the sharp pain every time he so much as shifted his leg, as well as the blood starting to run down to his foot. 

Fuck, getting shot hurt like a bitch. 

“Asshole, grab me my phone.” 

“You calling Pops?”

“What? No, the fuck is he gunna do?”

Iggy shrugged, but thankfully still handed Mickey his phone.

“Who you calling then?”

“Someone who can actually do something.” Mickey snapped. He had tried texting Gallagher on the ride over, but the fucker had not responded yet. What good was fucking an EMT if the fucker wasn’t around to patch you up when you needed him?

  
  


***

Ian got to Mickey’s in record time, his curiosity overflowing. It could be that the Milkovich was just horny and frustrated from having to deal with his brother’s all day, but Ian could have sworn he hearn a tinge of pain in the man's voice. Ian knocked at Mickey’s front door only for it to swing open and reveal not Mickey on the other side.

“You the doctor dude?”

“What?”

“Gallagher!” 

Ian pushed past the other man and followed Mickey's voice into the kitchen. Seeing your … Friend? Fuck buddy? Whatever the fuck they are bent over their kitchen table with blood running down their leg was sure enough way to give anyone a heart attack. Ian was already exhausted, so he should be forgiven for stating the obvious. 

“Holy shit! You got shot Mickey!” 

“Yes, I Fucking know I got shot! Can you get over here and just do your EMT shit please!” 

And with that Ian moved into auto pilot, assessing the damage before starting to remove Mickey’s jeans and boxers. 

“Jesus, do I even want to know?” Ian asked as he assessed the wound. It thankfully wasn’t that bad, but there was probably still a bullet lodging in the flesh of Mickey’s butt cheek. He’d have to get it out and he had none of his usual tools.

“...Just patch me up.”

“I’m gunna have to dig the bullet out.” 

“Oh, shit bro.” The other man snarked out, though his concern was muted by the fact that he was leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

Bro? So this was one of Mickey’s brothers? 

“Fuck, just do what you have to do”

“Do you have any Iodine?” Ian asked as he held a cloth against the wound.

“What?”

“Fine. how about booze? Whiskey Vodka?”

“Iggy! The fucking freezer.” Mickey barked out wincing. 

So this was Iggy then. Now that Ian had a name he kind of remembered a younger version of Mickey's brother nabbing some of the pizza bagels when Mandy and him had been studying. 

“Knew you were holding out on me.” Iggy mumbled, still not moving off the counter. 

“Just get the fucking handle, jack ass!” 

Iggy retrieved the bottle of liquor, handing it to his brother to chug a few shots before Ian took and poured it on the wound. 

“FUCK!” 

“I don’t have right shit for this, so it’s gunna fucking hurt.” 

“Hand me back the bottle then!” 

  
  


***

“The Hell happened?” Ian asked once Iggy left (He took the rest of the vodka, the fucking free loader). It had been a fucking ordeal, and Mickey just seemed beyond exhausted. 

Mickey was now, with his bandaged ass, laying on his stomach on his beat up couch in just his boxers and his tank top. He was staring at the tv and some random game show playing on the screen, waiting as Ian grabbed him some Advil and a beer. 

“Fucking Colin hadn’t been collecting from this one fuck, and Iggy, high off his ass, forgot to mention that the dumb old lady that was living with him was apparently packing.” 

“Jesus…” Ian trailed off as his eyes roamed up and down Mickey’s body, checking again to see if there was any injury he might have missed. 

“You just gunna fucking stand there all night? Mickey asked, his voice a little calmer now that Iggy wasn’t there to overhear every word said in Ian’s direction. 

“You’re kind of taking up the whole couch.” Ian pointed out. 

Mickey rolled his eyes and attempted to scootch over, only to wince in pain as Ian moved to stop him. 

“Don’t move, you dumb ass!” Gallagher hollered, but still took advantage the small bit of space created and squeezed himself on to the couch. Now, In order for Mickey to lay down again he’d have to lay his head on Ian’s lap. Mickey wasn’t impressed with this switch of positions from the previous night. Once was random, twice was pushing it, but Ian could tell how tired he was and doubted he’d put up much of a fight.

Mickey glared at the redhead, but quickly sighed and just laid his head on the man’s leg, wincing as he got settled. Ian let a small smile pull at his lips as he slowly rubbed the Milkovich’s back. 

“Iggy knows where you live.” Ian stated after a few minutes and Mickey groaned. 

“Don’t fucking remind me.” Mickey grumbled 

“He also knows I exist.” 

Both men sat in silence as Ian’s statement lingered in the air around them. The longer Mickey went without talking the more Ian worried he was going to be told to leave. 

“Nice to be promoted so easily…” Ian rambled. “Doctor guy definitely has a better ring to it than EMT.”

Mickey huffed a laugh at that, his hand coming up to rub at Ian’s knee, but still he didn’t speak. Ian paused his rubbing for a moment to fiddle with the bottom of Mickey’s shirt, wondering if he should just offer to leave now, make it less awkward. 

“Doubt he’ll even remember you if he finishes that whole handle he took.” Mickey concluded and Ian let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. They both absent mindedly watched the game show switch to an old sitcom rerun. Ian got a bit more brave as his hand moved from Mickey’s back to combing through his dark hair. Mickey let out a grateful sigh and Ian took it as permission to continue. They stayed just like that for a half an hour till Mickey turned his head in Ian’s lap. 

“My ass is obviously out of commission tonight, but I could still blow you.” Mickey offered and his mouth was already so close to Ian’s dick, but the Gallagher knew any movement would still be painful for the Milkovich.

Ian just shrugged, “You can get me back later, when your ass is back on the menu.” 

Mickey chuckled, but then his expression changed as he said. “Better if you don’t come by for a bit after this any way… Iggy will just start showing up whenever he pleases now.” 

Ian doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn’t know whether to mention that Iggy didn’t seem like he’d give a fuck if he knew his brother had a friend. He doesn’t know how to tell Mickey that it is all of him that keeps Ian coming around, not just the fantastic sex. He settles for something a bit more practical.   
“Gotta make sure your wound doesn’t get infected, though. Doubt you’re going to take yourself to the clinic.” Ian says, hoping Mickey will just go with the excuse. 

“Fuck off. I’ll be fine... Not like it’s the first time I’ve been shot.” 

Ian knows from the scar on Mickey’s leg and feeling the wall Mickey is starting to build so he changes the subject. 

“Scar on your leg, that from another one of your brother’s fuck ups?” Ian asks and Mickey is still laying in his lap, so he takes it as a good sign. 

“Nah, From the store owner when they caught me lifting the candy bar. Another bitch with a gun. Fucking south side broads...” 

“Broads? What are you some old guy from the fifties?” 

“Yeah well, apparently old fucks is what gets your dick rising so...” 

“Fuck you! My type has definitely changed.”

“That right?”

“Mmhmm. Need a round ass for one, shorter than me is definitely preferred, he’s gotta prefer bottoming...”

“Well you can’t let your spare bat go to waste.” 

Ian smirks and slowly lets his hand start combing through Mickey’s hair again as he gets a bit braver “Dark hair, blue eyes, tattoos…”

Mickey’s brow is scrunched, but he hasn’t told Ian to stop so…

“...Hates clubs, good at trash talking, can hold his own in a fight, artistic...”

The last one gets him an eye roll but that doesn’t seem to be Mickey’s main objection “All of that could still apply to a geriatric fucker.” 

“Nah, their asses sag too much, but I still like older guys though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep, more like a few years older. Three is probably good.” 

“You think this sweet talkin' is getting you somewhere?”

“I dunno, is it?”

“Hey, I offered to blow you already.” 

And they circled back to where they started, but Ian’s not sure if Mickey will insist that he goes home. Last night they had just crashed, but morning sex had still been an option. Ian still is fucking exhausted and Mickey seemed just as tired as Ian was since his eyes were already drooping. 

“Let’s get you into bed.” Ian suggests, happy when Mickey gives him no protests. 

Mickey still hasn’t brought Ian leaving again as they move into the bedroom, but Ian still hesitates till Mickey is laying on his stomach under the sheet and frowning at him like he’s grown a second head.

“You need a fucking invitation?”

Ian shakes his head, ‘cause yeah he kind of did. He quickly pulled off his pants and shirt and climbed into bed. With Mickey’s ass still in pain Ian couldn't wrap himself around the man like he usually would, and still unsure he hesitated to touch Mickey at all, till those blue eyes opened to glare at him again. With that Ian scooted closer and threw his arm over Mickey’s mid back and buried his nose in the man’s hair. He fell asleep with a smile on his face as he felt Mickey’s hand curl around his forearm. 


	31. Chapter 31

“Another 500?”

“That’s what she said.”

“On top of what she paid me for the wall?”

“Yep.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hey, take it up with Sam. She’s the one that gave me the message.” 

“How did I scam a rich ass coffee shop owner by accident?” Mickey asked himself as Ian laughed. Both him and Gallagher were still laying in bed, taking full advantage of their days off from their regular schedules. 

“Don’t think this qualifies as a scam.” Ian started with a smile as he watched Mickey roll his eyes. 

“I’m getting paid 5k to scribble on a wall.”

“You forgot I grew up with Frank? I know a scam when I see one, and this doesn’t qualify. Just a legal exchange of cash for artistic ability. “ 

“Will you fuck off with that artist shit?” 

“Hmmm If you're putting me in this one, let me know beforehand so I can pose appropriately.” 

“Jesus christ….”

“Seriously, I need some warning so I can do some pull ups beforehand or something. Make sure my shoulder muscles are up to the task.” 

“I will fucking remind you it was Jina who picked the sketch. Not me…” Mickey stated as he pushed himself up on to his forearms to lean over the dumb ass redhead. All it did was make his blush a little more obvious. 

“Yeah, but you drew it in the first place,” Ian returned with a smile, happy to watch the red spread across Mickey’s face. The Milkovich is getting more flustered by the second and just to make sure this doesn’t end with him getting kicked out of bed, the redhead surges up and latches on to Mickey’s bottom lip.

Mickey melts into the kiss, quickly opening his mouth as he lowers himself on Gallagher. They both sucked and licked into each other's mouths, till Mickey winced in his attempt to shift his lower body closer to Ian. 

“Get on your side.” Ian demands and Mickey frowns at him, but does what he’s told. He gingerly twists till he's laying on his side facing Ian. Full on fucking is definitely off the menu, but there were ways. Mickey watches as Gallagher pulls down the sheet, uncovering both their bodies, Before shimming down till he’s level with Mickey’s cock. Carefully, Ian pulls down Mickey’s boxers, still wary of the wound on his ass. Mickey winces only once and he’s watching Ian with his mouth parted and panting, so he must be down. 

Ian licks Mickey half hard dick from root to tip, before locking his lips around the head and gently sucking. Mickey’s breath hitches and Ian’s hand moves to grab his hip, keeping him on his side and still while he takes in the rest of Mickey’s cock. It takes only a few bobs of Ian’s head before Mickey is hitting the back of his throat. Ian relaxes even more, carefully breathing through his nose as he takes him down even further. 

“Fuck, Ian…” Mickey pants.

Ian can feel Mickey’s dick swell and fill even more of his mouth as he pulls off before taking him down again. If his mouth wasn’t preoccupied he might have smirked at the feel of Mickey’s hand quickly burrowing into his hair. Ian picks up the pace, knowing the longer he makes this last the more likely Mickey will unconsciously try to thrust into his mouth, irritating the bullet wound. 

He holds even firmer on to Mickey’s hips and starts moving his head in earnest pausing to swallow a few times when he’s taken Mickey as far as he can. The Milkovich is panting so hard above him, trying his best to repress his moans, but a few are still escaping past his lips. Ian takes Mick’s cock down to the root and pauses before glancing up and seeing that Mickey has been watching him the whole time. He keeps his eyes locked on MIckey's as he moans then swallows around the man’s cock. Mickey cums without a word, just a grunt and a tense fist locked firmly around Ian’s hair, as he releases down Ian’s throat. 

Ian coughs a few times as he finally pulls off, rubbing his head where his scalp is a bit tender. Mickey is too blissed out to do anything but catch his breath, that is till he feels the mattress start to shift. 

“C’mere” Mickey mumbles out, encouraging Ian back onto the bed. Once he’s close enough Mickey reaches out, grabbing the waist band of Ian’s boxers and pulls him closer while he also pulls them down. “Gotta get you back.”

Ian almost protests until Mickey’s hand clenches firmly around his cock and starts to jack him off. Ian’s dick is already so close to Mickey’s lips and it seems Milkovich wasn’t about to stop at a mer hand job either. Still mindful of the bullet wound, Mickey slowly got on all fours, his face right in front of Ian’s cock. 

“Up for doing most of the work fire crotch?”

Ian could have cum right then with a suggestion like that. Ian grabbed the back of Mickey’s head as Mickey opened his mouth with a grin. Unlike Ian, he wasted no time taking as much of Ian into his mouth as he could, bobbing just a bit before looking up at Gallagher, clearly encouraging him to take the lead. 

“Shit Mickey…” Ian trailed off as Mickey’s throat relaxed and The Milkovich took him even further into his mouth. “Yeah, want me to fuck your mouth, huh?” 

Mickey’s moan was all Ian needed to slowly start thrusting. He watched his cock slide in and out of Mickey's mouth as the Milkovich stared up at him, pushing a little further down his throat every time. Ian's fingers were slowly increasing their grip around the dark strands of Mickey’s hair, tugging a bit more forcefully with each thrust. As Mickey's throat clenched around him Ian’s hand jerked, pulling MIckey’s hair, hard. Mickey only moaned even more around Ian’s cock and Ian filed the new fact away for later, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was so close, but still there was one thing that kept coming to the forefront of his mind, as he stared into the blue eyes still gazing back at him. 

Ian desperately wanted to cum on Mickey’s face. He’d cum all over the Milkovich if he could… but would Mickey let him?

“So close Mick, fuck! Your mouth is so good.” Ian rambled out, working himself up to asking before he blew his load. Only Mickey Milkovich could still be intimidating with a 9 inches cock down his throat. Mickey only moaned more, and fuck... Ian might not make it. 

“God I want to cum on your face.” Ian rambled out with a moan. He continued staring at Mickey’s face, looking for any sign that Mickey wasn’t up for it, but as he kept thrusting those blue eyes just stayed locked on him. Ian let his hand wander from the back of Mickey’s head around to his lips that were stretched so perfectly around his cock. “Fuck, can I?” Ian asks in between breathless pants. 

Mickey doesn’t even blink as he surges forward just a bit to take Ian down, just as Ian has thrust forward. He swallows, his throat milking Ian cock, pushing Gallagher right to the edge, before backing off and letting Ian’s dick fall from his mouth. He coughs just a few times before grinning up at the redhead. 

Ian quickly works his cock with his own hand. It takes just two more seconds and he is erupting all over Mickey’s face, even getting some in his hair with the last few pumps. As Ian caught his breath as he listened to Mickey chuckle. The Milkovich wiped off his face with the back of his hand, before wiping what was left of Ian’s jizz on the sheets. His voice was a bit wrecked from taking Ian’s cock and Ian had never heard anything sexier.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Ian said between pants. 

“Guess your mouth will do till my ass is back in action,” Mickey chuckled as he slowly got out of bed, wincing just slightly from the movement. “What’d you say before? 10 days?”

“10 days minimum.” 

“I doubt you’ll last that long.”

“What? You think I can’t keep my hands off you?” 

Mickey just raises his eyebrows as he gingerly picks his sweat pants off the ground and attempts to pull them on. 

Honestly, it was a fair reaction because Ian hadn’t believed his own words. 

“I’m sure your horny ass can find someone to tide you over.” Mickey mumbles out. 

Mickey’s back is turned, so he doesn’t catch how quickly Ian’s face falls. There are so many reasons this is a bad time to bring up what Ian wants, and really them fucking exclusively was just part of it, but Ian hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since New York. He can still picture that stupid guy at the club with his fingers wrapped around Mickey’s wrist…

Ian had hated it.. Seems he had only gotten more possessive since he saw Mickey go home with that other guy from the fairy Tale. He had actually shocked himself with how quickly he had darted over to Mickey’s side. He hadn’t thought of Mandy being close, or of Kyle, all he had thought was he wanted the fucker to let go of Mickey. Fact of the matter was, Ian wanted Mickey all to himself. 

“Don’t mind the wait…” Ian started, trying to think of the best way to pitch it without Mickey immediately shooting him down. 

“Pshhh like you could go ten days without getting off. I don’t see you for three and you tear my fucking clothes off.” 

“Yeah, but you're a guaranteed good lay. Random guys at the club are more of a gamble.”

Mickey seems to huff in agreement at that, and fuck. What if Mickey is still doing other people? Just because he doesn’t bring them to his apartment doesn’t mean there aren’t guys willing to bend over a dumpster in an alley. Ian doesn’t think Mickey had the time to fuck anyone else the last month, but who really knows. It is not like he knows every minute of the man’s schedule…

But Ian’s worries don’t stop him from continuing, “Was thinking actually…” 

Mickey turns around, staring at Ian for a few seconds before gesturing for the man to continue as he raises his eyebrow. 

“We could go to the clinic ...get tested…”

“The fuck for? You scratching too much or something?”

“No, no just... if we got tested, and its all good, we could fuck bareback. Save cash on condoms…” Ian mumbles out.

Mickey just blinks at him for a second before huffing out a laugh as he pulls on his shirt 

“Must be shit pay they’re giving you EMTs if condoms don’t fit the budget.”and with that Mickey heads out of the bedroom, leaving Ian throwing his head back in silent aggravation. 

  
  


***

  
  


“Out now!”

“Oh come on! the fuck do you have to do?”

“Errands numb nuts, and you’re not fucking staying here.”Mickey said as he grabbed the sleeve of Iggy’s shirt to haul him off his couch. 

“You still pissed? Even after I brought you shit from my own stash?” Iggy got to his feet as his drug muddled brain tried to decipher his brother's mood. 

“Yeah i’m still fucking pissed. You know what will make me not pissed, turn around and let me shoot you in the ass.” 

“It wasn’t even my usual route…” Iggy complained as Mickey shoved him out the door. The older Milkovich leaned against the door frame as Mickey locked his apartment, rolling his eyes at his brother's excuses. “Colin’s the one who should have warned us.” 

“Funny, cause when I talk to him two days ago he mentioned he had fucking told you about the crazy bitch.” Mickey informed Iggy as he grabbed him by the shirt once again and shoved him down the hall.

“You talked to Colin?”

“Yeah, since you can’t seem to fucking be bothered and I don’t want to run into another piece of shit who thinks they don’t gotta pay up.”

Iggy shrugged “So you should have seen it coming.” 

“No YOU should have, since you were supposed to be keeping fucking watch!” 

“What did you want me to do? I couldn't punch an old lady.” 

“When she has a fucking gun I don’t care if you have to fucking gut her.”

Iggy just shrugged, giving up the fight as they walked out of Mickey’s building. 

“Now fuck off, and stop showing up at my place!” Mickey hollered as Iggy walked in the opposite direction. His brother gave no sign that he heard him. Mickey sighed as he turned and headed to the coffee shop. 

It had been a long week. With the bullet wound in his ass putting him out of commission to handle the rest of the collections, Mickey had to rally Iggy, Jamie, and Joey to do everything for once. Somehow the fuckers had thankfully pulled it off. With the last shipment already with his Dad Mickey could focus on the next mural and getting himself an easy 5k. 

Turns out not being able to do much, made you twitchy and liable to draw shit. He had a few ideas he didn’t think were half bad and now that it didn’t hurt like a bitch every time he took a step, he figured now was as good a time as any to make his way to Jina’s. Maybe even a certain redhead might be there. Unless he was really avoiding him. 

Ian hasn't texted him once in the last 7 days. Yeah, the fuck had put a hard line on it being at least 10 till Mickey was mostly back to normal, but the Milkovich had thought he had made it pretty clear he was more than down for endless blow jobs till then. 

Plus the fucker had been all weird with that testing shit. 

Mickey hadn’t really known what to say when Gallagher brought it up. Was Ian trying to tell him he picked something up from some other guy? He had been trying to think of when the EMT would have the time to bang someone else, but it didn’t seem likely. Between now and getting back from New York they both had been slammed. Gallagher looked like a zombie in between shifts ... and he had said he’d rather wait then find some random twink at the club.

Sure, Mickey hadn’t texted him, but every time he had gotten up the nerve his fucking brother decided to pop by with some “sorry you got shot in the ass weed”, most of which he’d smoke himself. 

Maybe Gallagher had family shit? Ian talked about his siblings ridiculous shit often enough. Definitely seemed like one of them might pull something and call their brother to help handle it. 

Maybe Ian was just tired of him?

Mandy had gone on and on in New York about Ian would find someone. Besides her instance of getting her friend laid for his trouble of visiting her, she seemed to always be reassuring the redhead that the right one would come along soon. That he wouldn’t have to fuck annoying guys he ended up hating forever.

Did Mickey fall into that category? Some annoying shit Ian was just wasting time with till someone else came along? 

Mickey's mind continued to whirl as he finally opened the door to Jina’s. His table was thankfully unoccupied. The place looked the same as it had a month ago, and though he'd’ never admit it, that eased Mickey’s mind. 

The one thing that was different was the man behind the counter. He looked up from restocking the paper cups and smiled at Mickey as the Milkovich walked into the shop. He was the same height as the Milkovich with dark hair. He was skinny as a rail everywhere but his cheeks, which only accentuated the bit of chub on them as he smiled. =

“Welcome! What can I get started for you?”

Mickey just raised his eyebrows at the man as he walked past the counter and started to settle into his usual spot. The guy watched him the entire time, his mouth pressed together in a small pout as Mickey continued to ignore him.

“Ahhhh, sir?”

Great, pushy and chatty. Mickey’s least favorite combo.

“Hey! Da Vinci finally returns!” Kenny calls out with a grin, startling the new guy with his loud greeting. He popped out of the back room with a box of more paper cups, but quickly forgot about them, letting it drop to the floor as he spotted Mickey. “How is it going man!” 

“1 fuck off with that shit! 2.Do you even know who Da Vinci is?” Mickey asked 

Kenny just smiled, nudging the new guy as he nodded at one of the Mickey’s framed sketches. “He’s our local artist, did all the awesome shit on the walls.” 

Mickey suppressed a groan as he pulled out the few sketches he thinks might work for the wall behind the counter. Why couldn't’ Sam be working today? 

“This is Joel. He’s our new guy. Your mural is really bringing in some business!” Kenny continues on as he grabs an empty cup and a pot of coffee to bring over to Mickey. Joel perks up at Kenny’s mention of him, his chipmunk smile back in place. 

“Good to meet you, that mural outside is really ... eye catching.” Joel adds in, but his tone is still hesitant. He doesn’t really even look in Mickey’s direction.

Mickey doesn't know if that was a compliment or not, but he’s not responding either way. As Kyle places down the cup on Mickey’s table he leans over, looking at the three sketches Mickey was working between.

“Ohhh that one would be sick, totally gets my vote.” Kenny says as he taps the one closest to Mickey with his finger. “These are for the back wall yeah?”

Kenny’s choice is Mickey’s second favorite of the three. The sketch is a close up of a man's face, grinning. You only see from the noise down to his collarbone while a fist, coming from the left, is already starting to make contact with the man’s cheek, smudging part of his smile. The guy may also have slight resemblance to Iggy. 

“Pretty sure we’ve already established you don’t pick what goes on the walls.” 

“Yeah yeah, you and Sam are always busting my balls.” Kenny laughs Mickey off as he heads back behind the counter, the chipmunk following his every move. 

Mickey just shakes his head and gets to work refining the sketches in front of him

  
  


***

A few hours later and it is the third time Mickey has gone to take a sip from his cup only to find it empty. Sure, it has been a while since he’s been here, but apparently he’s fucking spoiled ‘cause he refuses to get up and ask for a goddamn refill. 

Kenny had given him his first one an hour before, but it looks like the chipmunk wasn’t the monkey see monkey do type. Kenny had been in the back ever since, doing fuck knows what, and the new guy was just chilling at the front, scrolling through his phone, no fucks to give. 

Mickey just sighed aggravatedly as he set down his cup again, rather loudly before focusing on the sketch in front of him. He was having a hard time getting the fingers right, and his lack of coffee wasn’t helping his frustration at all. 

“Seriously? Get off your phone!” 

Mickey looked up at the terse voice to find Sam was barreling through the front door, startling the new guy into dropping his phone. She just rolled her eyes snapping at the chipmunk to restock the baked goods, as she moved behind the counter and through the door to the back. 

The Milkovich continued to watch the skinny idiot scramble to do his job as he listened to the noise of Sam yelling at Kenny about something in the back. When the brunette reappeared upfront, not even two minutes later, her dark hair was up in a mess of a bun and she had an apron tied around her waist. Only then did she quickly scan the shop and noticed Mickey sitting at his table. 

“The fuck have you been?” She called out, her tone softening just a touch. Mickey watched as the chipmunk halted in his task, looking between her and Mickey as Sam walked over to him. 

“What’s it to you?” Mickey snarked back, but didn’t hold back a small smile. 

“Ian, tell you about the back wall?”

Mickey nodded smiling a little wider as he remembered how Ian had looked in his bed the morning he told him. His hair was a fucking mess and for some reason he was all flushed from nerves, like Mickey would be pissed finding out he had more money coming his way. 

Sam didn’t seem to notice Mickey lose his focus, instead she was glancing over the sketches on his table. “These the options?” 

Mickey just nodded, waiting for her opinion. Sam only frowned as she noticed his empty cup. 

“Have you gotten your refill yet?”

“Not for the last hour.”

“Fuckin’ A.” Sam grumbled out, turning quickly on her heels and snatching up the coffee pot with a pointed glare at the new guy, before heading back to Mickey’s table. 

As she refilled his cup Mickey nodded to the idiot, who was still clumsily restocking the muffin. “Chip and Dale really a necessary addition?” he asked. 

“He’s related to Jina… don’t get me fucking started. He’s her sister's kid or something.” Sam grumbled out, glaring at the guy over her shoulder. “Since, i’m stuck having to deal with him, it’s your lucky day.” 

Mickey just raised his eyebrow waiting for the barista to continue. 

“Overheard Jina talking to her husband on the phone. Dude works in finance and apparently he scored a big ass deal two days ago.” Sam looked over her shoulder, making sure the new guy was still occupied before continuing. “So, that number I told Ian, push to double it. Jina can afford it, easy.” 

Mickey just smiled as he took a sip of his coffee. “Thanks for the heads up.” 

Sam smirked back, only to wince a second later at the sound of a dish breaking behind the coffee counter. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as Mickey suppressed a chuckle. 

  
  


***

“UNCLE IAN AGAIN AGAIN!”

“Franny I’m getting dizzy.”

“Pleeeeeeeease, ” 

Ian sighed under the cute demands from the other redhead. He swiped her up in his arms and spun around for the 13th time before dropping her half a foot on to the beat up couch. The five year old giggled wildly as she plopped in the cushions. 

Ian had taken up the roll of constant babysitter this past week. Over the years Franny had definitely leaned on him the most out of all her uncles. With Lip focused on his own family and Carl, well being Carl, it took very little for the youngest redhead to glom onto Ian as her favorite. It was a role he was more than happy to fill… most of the time. 

The last week he was either at work or had his niece thrust into his care as his sister ran out of the house. In Fact if he actually counted the hours he was pretty sure Debbie had spent less time with her daughter during her waking hours than Ian had the last seven days. Ian loved his niece and his sister, and he would in no way question Debbies parenting...honestly by Gallagher standards she was damn good Mom, but it was getting ridiculous. 

His mood wasn’t helped by the fact that his busy schedule meant no Mickey. With no time to run over to the Milkovich’s apartment Ian had found himself just staring endlessly at his phone. It’s lack of notifications was pushing him to start spiraling about what his next move was. 

It had been so straight forward before New York. Fuck buddies, clear and simple. Yes, Ian had wanted more, but he had no idea how more would feel like with Mickey. In Chicago he didn’t eat out with him at restaurants, joke with him over a few beers, and didn't side with him in arguments against his sister. Fuck, He had full view into what a domestic life might be with Mickey, but now, being back home, even just imagining texting Mickey and asking about his day had Ian fucking worrying. 

Ian had convinced himself before it was fine. Hot sex and the good conversations during pillow talk were enough. But then Mickey put his fucking face on the side of building, Mickey called him and ranted about his sister’s boyfriend and his lack of access to normal eggs. Mickey practically played god damn footsie with him under the table of every place they ate at in New York, he made sure Ian slept in the same bed as him night after night, and when he was in trouble he called Ian to come help. 

Whether the Milkovich would admit it or not they were more than fuck buddies. Fuck buddies don't do any of this shit with each other… but then why hadn’t he tried to contact Ian? Why was Ian so fucking nervous to just text the man. It was like he was a fucking teenager mooning over his first crush. Why did Mickey shrugging off his suggestion of them getting tested hurt so fucking much?

“Uncle Ian again!”

Ian shook himself out his thoughts as his niece grabbed at his shirt as she stood on the couch. 

“No, Franny, it’s time to get ready for bed.”

“Nooooo! I”m not sleepy.”

“Well it is definitely past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime!” 

“Yes I do.”

“Nuh-uh!” Franny kept up her defiance balling her fist even as she suppressed a yawn. 

Ian held back a smile before fake yawning himself, watching as she again yawned with a wide mouth though still frowning up at her uncle. 

“Ugh, I’m sorry Fran. I’m so sleepy I don’t think I can even read you a story.”

Franny gasped in horror at such a statement her eyes going wide with disbelief. “Nooooo!” 

“I can barely keep my eyes open…”Ian continued letting his body slump forward just a bit as he acted as if he was about to collapse on top of the smaller redhead. 

“No! Uncle Ian!” Franny whined as she pushed both her hands into his stomach to keep him standing. “Stay awake! Mommy got me a new book and everything.” 

**_Bing_ **

Ian fought hard to not snap his head in the direction of his phone. Franny would be insufferable tomorrow if he didn’t get her into bed within the next 30 mins. It probably was just Debbie, letting him know she’d be home later than she said... for the fourth day in a row. 

“Well, maybe if we read it quick….”

“Super quick!” Franny declared and then hopped off the couch to run up the stairs. 

Ian listened to her little feet patter across the upstairs hallway. He should follow her up right away, but his hopefully curiosity won out. Ian quickly grabbed his phone from the kitchen his whole face lighting up with a grin at the simple notification. 

**Mickey M.**   
7:22 PM  
 _I call bullshit on your ten days Gallagher_

7:23  
Oh? You got some other doctor guy checking on your ass?

Ian tucked the device in his back pocket, knowing that a cranky Franny wasn’t worth waiting there, just staring at his phone, for Mickey to respond. Ian was sitting on Franny’s bed as she pulled out her book when his pocket buzzed again. It took everything in him to not pull it out and instead focused as hard as he could on the picture book in front of him. Thankfully, he barely had to get through the whole thing, as Franny must have wiped herself out from earlier that day and was already nodding off beside him. 

7:32  
 _Yeah figured a second opinion was needed. Seems 7 days is more than enough for my ass to be back on the menu._

Ian rolled his eyes as he read Mickey’s response. Franny laid passed out against his side as he carefully shifted till she was laying on her pillow before returning to his phone. Ian pulled up the camera app and quickly took a shot of how cute Franny was curled into Ian’s side. 

7:33  
If only I wasn’t already in bed with another redhead. _(Picture Delivered)_

7:34  
 _That your Mini me?_

7:35   
My niece. My sister’s had me on babysitter duty all week.

7:36  
 _Your sister coming back tonight?_

7:36  
Who knows. 

7:37  
 _She a deadbeat?_

7:38  
No, just fucking distracted. Some love triangle bullshit. Didn’t get a chance to ask questions.

Ian paused and then slowly stood up and tucked Franny in before quietly sneaking out of her and Debbie’s room. There was little hope that Debbie might actually be home at a reasonable hour, and Franny couldn’t be left in the house on her own. Carl was who knows where and Liam would be at a friend’s house for the night. It was more than likely that Ian would probably have the house to himself so maybe...

7:38

Thankfully Franny sleeps like a rock  
So she’ll be out cold the rest of the night  
You Could bring your newly healed ass over to my place…

Ian hit send and waited with his hand tapping on the edge of his phone. 

7:41  
 _Don’t you have like nine other siblings you live with?_

7:42

I only have five  
And I live with 3 of them   
all of whom are gone for the night. 

7:43  
 _Whom? The fuck  
_ _you some professor now?_

7:43  
Well I did do pretty well in English class

7:43  
 _Yeah ok smart ass_

Ian waited another five minutes staring at his phone intently before sending another message

7:48  
Just saying there's also zero chance of Iggy stopping by my place

This is fucking stupid. Ian shouldn’t be this nervous suggesting they fuck at his place for once. He shouldn't be so excited to maybe have Mickey in his bed. This is standard shit. It doesn’t say anything about them being more that whatever the fuck they are. If anything it just shows how pathetic he is, but it doesn’t stop Ian from grinning like a maniac at the next message.

7:53  
 _House is on South Wallace?_

7:53  
Yep

7:54  
 _Be there is 20  
_ _that kid better still be sleeping._


	32. Chapter 32

The walk to the Gallagher house is more nerve wracking than Mickey is expecting. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d look like a pussy if he didn’t show up, he probably would have turned around. With it still being the middle of summer anyone can see him, clear as day, walking up the street. Mickey had forgotten how close Gallagher lived to his Dad’s place. Sure, It wasn’t like he expected to see any of his family, but being only a few blocks away was making him a bit paranoid. 

Thinking of Gallagher wasn’t helping his nerves either. Usually, the Milkovich would focus on Ian and every other worry would float away, at least for a few short hours. Now, Mickey can’t even seem to jack off to the fucker without that stupid testing shit taking over his thoughts. It was what he always circled back to. That and the look on Gallagher’s face when he had brought it up. 

As Mickey walked up the last couple of feet to stand at the bottom of the steps, He feels like he’s about to walk into a trap. The house is just like every other shitty one on the block. He can vaguely remember yelling up at Ian’s brother when he was a teen. Back then the house had seemed lively and chaotic. Now it was quiet... so no other Gallaghers must be home… right?

Mickey shakes the rest of the nerves out of his hand, biting his lip as he ascended the stairs to bang on the front door. He listens closely for the thunder of foot steps, yelling, anything that would confirm that Ian isn’t the only one home. Instead all his ears can pick up is the steady footfalls of one person.

When Ian opens the door, Mickey immediately grabs him by the front of his shirt and shoves him into the house. He kicks Gallagher's front door shut behind him peering around Ian to the family room, making sure no one else is there. 

“Hello to you too,” Ian snorts out as he holds the back of Mickey’s arm, the one that is attached to the fist tangled in Ian’s shirt. He doesn't pull Mickey's grip free though. His hand is just there...steady and there.

“No one else home?” Mickey asks still glancing around Ian, just waiting for someone to pop up unannounced 

“Just one passed out kid. Debbie texted a few minutes ago confirming she’d be out till morning,” Ian answers as his hand starts stroking the back of Mickey’s arm.    
Mickey nods, still biting his lip, but when he doesn't stop peering around, Ian’s hand grips his arm firmly before pulling him flush against him. Mickey opens his mouth to … object? He doesn’t really know and it doesn’t matter with Ian’s tongue pressing into his mouth. 

Mickey still can’t seem to relax. His whole body is tight, but that doesn't seem to deter the redhead, thankfully. Mickey lets his hand fall from Ian’s shirt and slide up to slip around the back of his neck, as Ian’s other arm slips around his waist. Ian sucks on his bottom lip and Mickey slowly starts to loosen up. He leans into Ian, soaking up the feel of his firm body right up against his again, as both his hands start to wander. Ian seems to have the same idea... and brings it all to a grinding halt as he grabs Mickey’s ass. 

“The fuck Gallagher!” Mickey hisses out as he jerks away. 

“Shit! sorry, I forgot.”

Mickey lets the sharp pain ease to a small burn before he glares at the sheepish man in front of him. He clearly didn’t feel that bad ‘cause his hands hadn’t been taken off Mickey’s body, just shifted up higher around his waist. 

“It still that bad?” Ian asks and Mickey’s frown only deepens. This better not put the man off of fucking him. 

“It’s fine,” Mickey mumbles out as he reaches up to grab the back of Ian’s neck, only for the redhead to pull away. 

“How bad?” Ian repeats, his concern growing, “scale of one to ten?”

“It’s good enough for us to bang. So can you just-”

“I’m gunna have to verify that.”

Mickey would have taken it as a come on if Ian didn’t immediately turn around and walk away from him, heading to the back of the house. Mickey just stands in the entry way, confused as fuck. 

“You coming?” Ian asks as he looks over his shoulder. With nothing else to do Mickey follows him into what he discovers is the kitchen. Ian pulls out two beers from the fridge and a first aid kit from one of the cupboards as Mickey walks past the entryway. Mickey just raises his eyebrows at him, not even reaching for the beer Ian placed on the counter for him. 

“Pants off.” 

“We gunna fuck or you gunna play nurse?”

Ian rolls his eyes, but continues to open the first aid kit and just nods to Mickey to get a move on. The Milkovich rolls his eyes as well before grabbing the beer bottle and twisting off the cap. Ian waits patiently by the counter till Mickey finally concedes and undoes his jeans, pulling both them and his boxers down till they rested right under his ass. Ian hid his smirk as he stepped behind the Milkovich to inspect the wound as Mickey leans forward to rest his hands on the counter, giving Ian a better view.

Mickey grabs one the beers as he feel Ian’s fingers gently press around his injured cheek. He normally didn’t ever feel exposed when naked around Gallagher, but this, without the aid of booze, felt oddly revealing. That and standing with his pants down in the middle of the Gallagher kitchen.

Mickey waits as Ian hmmed behind him. This shouldn’t get him going, but Ian touching him in at all did things to him. Already, he can feel his dick rising just a bit. It didn’t matter how clinical Ian’s touches were…. and then were not. The Milkovich would have felt self conscious, just a bit, if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand that wasn’t inspecting his injured cheek was definitely taking advantage of the other one. 

“The fuck are you doing back there?” Mickey asks, his tone playful.

“Just give me a minute.” 

“Ogle all you want, long as your pants are dropping in the next few seconds.”

“I’m checking to make sure it isn’t infected. 

“That right?”

“Mmmhmm” 

Mickey might have believed him if it wasn’t for that one of Ian’s hands was already slipping between his cheeks. Not like Mickey would complain about that. As Ian’s finger grazes across his hole Mickey bites his bottom lip. Relief filled his body as the heat gathers in his lower stomach.  Ian stepped closer so Mickey could feel him up against his back even as his fingers continued to poke and caress his ass. “Healed up pretty well,” Ian mumbled into Micky’s ear as he continued to grab at the cheek without the bullet wound. 

Gallagher was just fucking with him now. Mickey could hear the man deeply inhale behind him as he nuzzles into the side of Mickey’s neck. 

“Gallag-” Mickey stops as the sound of a plastic cap popping open catches his attention. He chuckles as he spots the bottle of lube Ian has pulled from the first aid kit. 

Seriously, who keeps lube there?

“This means I win right?”

“What?” Mickey huffs out as he feels Ian’s capable fingers start to rub at his hole once again. 

“You said I wouldn’t last three days. It’s been seven.” Ian pauses before he slowly pushes his first finger into Mickey, “And you called me so…”

“The fuck is with your need for chit chat, huh?” Mickey mumbles the words, grateful there is still some snark in his voice. It probably won’t last, especially with Gallagher curling his finger like that. 

He starts slowly pumping it in and out of Mickey as the shorter man does everything not to moan as Ian hits that perfect spot inside him. “Just saying,” Ian pauses to press a kiss on the back of Mickey’s neck. “You're the one who tried to tear my clothes off.” 

“I’m not the… hmmm … the one still fully dressed here.” 

Ian’s only response to that was to add a second finger as he starts to bite and suck on the Milkovich’s pulse point.

“Mmmm you missed me.”

“Missed your dick... fuck, I’m good already.”

“Wanna make sure. Your ass is too good to fuck up anymore than it already is.” Ian practically whispers into Mickey’s ear, but Mickey can still hear Gallagher starting to undo the zipper on his jeans while he messily continues to pump his fingers in and out of Mickey’s hole. 

Neither said another word as Ian pushes Mickey’s feet a little farther apart before grabbing a condom out of his own jeans pocket. Such a fucking boy scout. Mickey is kind of shocked those weren’t in the first aid kit too. 

A few more seconds Ian presses his dick into Mickey cautiously, and yeah, Mickey winces partially from the stretch and partially from his injured cheek, but it still is fucking good. Mickey loses all coherency as Gallagher bottoms out. He doesn’t even try to focus on whatever it is that Ian is mumbling behind him as he slowly gets use to the feel before Ian starts slowly thrusting. Gallagher’s being cautious, not going as hard as he usually would, but it still works and Mickey’s mind finally focuses on nothing other than the feel of Ian. 

Unfortunately, his peace of mind lasts no longer than a few minutes. Mickey barely touches his own dick before he's making a mess of the lower cabinets and Ian follows a minute after. As Gallagher slowly pulls out of him Mickey can feel his ass aching in all the wrong ways, but it was more than worth it. He just needs a minute to catch his breath. 

“Mickey?”

“....Yeah”

“You good?”

“...I’m fine.”Mickey mumbles out cause even though Ian definitely went easy on him it still is taking a bit longer for the pain to fade then he would like. 

Gallagher sighs as the Milkovich moves to pull up his boxers and do up his jeans, wincing with every small movement. “I told you it would take ten days,  **at least** , for it to heal.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining two minutes ago.” 

“Well apparently missing you turns me into an idiot.” Ian huffs out. 

Mickey’s head snaps up at the comment and it's clear from Gallagher’s face he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, the same way Mickey doesn’t mean to grin back at him. Mickey shakes the look off his face as he finishes adjusting his clothes so he doesn’t look like he just got his ass properly pounded. 

He nods at the cabinets, silently asking for something to wipe the jizz off of them. Ian just nods and grabs a wet rag by the sink, throwing it over to Mickey. Mickey does a lazy job, his mind drifting again to that stupid testing shit Ian had mentioned last week. He just can’t get it out of his head... and before he can stop himself the words just fly out of his mouth,  “The fuck was with that testing shit you were on about?”

Ian doesn’t answer right away. Mickey just keeps his eyes on the cabinets he’s wiping down as he waits. He can hear the redhead shifting his feet, but when he doesn't answer after a few more minutes, Mickey finally turns back to face him. “Some skeevy piece of shit tell you he had something after you fucked?”

There he asked. No avoiding the fact that Ian’s been fucking other people. That is till Ian is looking at him like Mickey's got two heads.

“What? No...no I just…”Ian trails off and is pressing his lips together. He pauses for only a few more seconds before nodding as he continues, “That one morning at Mandy’s, when you rode me?” Ian pauses again and Mickey nods, pushing Gallagher to continue “It was pretty hot...” Ian steps away from leaning against the kitchen sink and walks the few steps over to where Mickey is standing. “...really want to fuck you like that again.”

“That right?”

“Yeah, and if we both get tested ...and then don’t fuck anyone else… it keeps the risk down, less to worry about. Plus you were right, EMTs really don’t make that much.” Ian is just rambling at the end as he stares at the shorter man.

Mickey can feel himself blinking like an idiot as his mind wraps itself around exactly what Ian is asking. They’d get to fuck each other, no condoms, no one putting their hands on the man in front of him. It’s more than appealing, but if they’re not fucking other people doesn’t that mean-

“Uncle Ian…”

Both men jerk in surprise at the sound of Franny’s voice. The five year old stands at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, rubbing her eyes as she stared at her at both men, her lower lip quivering just slightly.

“Hey Franny, uhhh did you have a bad dream?” 

The small redhead just nodded as Ian leaned down to pick the girl up. Thankfully the five year old doesn’t so much as look in Mickey’s direction for more than a few seconds, too tuckered out to care about the stranger in her kitchen. Mickey watches Franny wrap her arms around her uncle as Ian just shrugs in his direction before quickly carrying the girl back up the stairs. 

With both of them out of sight Mickey doesn’t really know what to do with himself while his mind continues to whirl. He is just standing there, holding a cum rag, while Ian’s question runs laps around his brain. Gallagher wanted to fuck exclusively. Ian fucking Gallagher wanted to only stick his dick in him. 

Fucking gay or not if you only stuck your dick in one person you were together. Like together together, like fucking boyfriends… and Mickey had never let himself really entertain the idea of that being something he could have. Fuck, it wasn’t really even something he wanted? To go out and having picnics with stupid small dogs in sweaters and whatever the fuck out gay dudes did-

Ian was out though and didn’t do that shit. Sure, the fucker seemed to break all Mickey’s rules with the gay shit...but he liked it when the fucker did that. Everything Ian and him had done already he really fucking liked. Plus he was already not banging anyone else. Why would he when the best sex of his life came right to his door within 20 minutes?

“Hey…” Ian calls out with a surprised smile, like he’s a bit shocked Mickey’s still standing there, as he comes down the stairs. “She should be out for the rest of the night…” He trails off, slowly stepping closer to Mickey with his hands in his pockets.

Standing only a foot away, Ian still isn’t touching him and now Mickey wonders if he got it wrong. Maybe Gallagher’s schedule is just too fucked up and coming to his place is simple. So why not just fuck Mickey for now, Just fill the time till someone better comes along.?

“So…? Ian asks and Mickey hesitates for only a second before throwing the cum rag on to the counter and resolving himself to ask a few questions of his own. 

“You want to get tested, bang without rubbers, and not fuck other people,” Mickey lists off carefully watching Ian’s face before he continues, “Sounds like boyfriend girlfriend shit Gallagher.” Mickey snarks out and immediately he winces at his own words. He sounds like a fucking dumbass. 

Ian huffs out a breath, looking to the ceiling as he clenches his jaw. Mickey knows he fucked up a bit there. He’s shit at this stuff, but Mickey opens his mouth again ‘cause he fucking needs to know exactly what Ian’s asking here. “That's what you want?... Or you just got a bareback kink?” 

Mickey can hear there is no confidence in his voice, but it seems to put Gallagher a bit at ease as the redhead tries to find his own words to respond. He steps closer, glancing up at Mickey as he pulls his hands from his pockets. When the Milkovich doesn't move away Ian quickly wraps his hand around the back of Mickey's neck and pulls the man in for a kiss. 

Mickey lets it happen ‘cause this part he’s good at. Ian’s lips lock on to his lower lip and Mickey’s mind eases as he leans into it. With Ian’s hands pulling him in it is easier to admit how much he wants to keep this, keep Ian, for as long as his fucked up life will let him. Gallagher pulls back after a few seconds, still keeping his hands on the back of Mickey’s neck. 

Gallagher takes a deep breath and presses his lips together before finally answer,“I like you, fuck I like you a lot. So... no girlfriend shit seeing as we're both guys…” Ian babbles out and Mickey rolls his eyes ‘cause Ian knows what he meant. “But the boyfriend shit… yeah, I want that.”

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. 

It’s all Mickey can hear going around in his head as he continues to stare up at Gallagher. It’s been a fun few months, and yeah Mickey’s broke every fucking rule he ever made, sure he’s missed the shit out of fucker and his nine inch cock the last few days...but boyfriend? Boyfriend like lover… like partner, like Ian would be around even more than he already was? Mickey doesn’t get lucky like that. This fucking winning streak he has been on will end, and he has a sinking feeling the pay up is gunna involve Ter-

“We don't have to tell anyone, I know you're not out… just... fuck, seeing that guy in New York try to dance with you… I hated it, and I know we haven’t said shit before, but we’re more than just fuck buddies Mickey. At least I want us to be and… I just… I wanna know how you feel, you know?” Ian babbles out, interrupting Mickey’s thoughts. 

Gallagher mentioning that stupid New York club makes Mickey tense up, ‘cause he had hated it too; seeing all those fuckers eyeing the redhead and trying to grind on him. Not getting to say shit or to throw a punch, fuck he hated it more than he thought he could hate anything… but-

Now it’s Mickey turn to answer with a kiss, ‘cause fuck Gallagher and his watery puppy eyes, and his stupid ginger hair, and large ass hands. Fuck him for making Mickey want what he was offering. 

Ian kisses him back eagerly, but when the redhead pulls back for a second. Mickey just follows and latches on to his lips once again. Just like that he has Ian backing up the kitchen stairs, leading the way to his bedroom while still keeping his lips and hands on Mickey. The whole way up they are tearing off each other's clothes, barely getting them off before they’re collapsing on Ian’s double bed. 

Mickey winces only a couple of times, but every time Ian shows a second of concern he’s back to shoving his tongue down Gallagher’s throat. The fucker can worry about his bullet wound later. It’s faster than their round in the kitchen, with Mickey already prepped he just gets on his hands and knees, as Ian waist no time draping himself over The Milkovich as he grabs another bottle of lube from his night stand. Within a few seconds he’s slicked up his cock again and sinks into Mickey, while the smaller man moans under him. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” Ian is breathing into Mickey’s ear as he starts to thrust. Fuck Mickey wishes he would go harder. He’d try trusting back onto Ian’s cock if his stupid fucking wound didn’t sting so much, but Gallagher’s now wrapped his arms around his chest holding him still. Ian shifts just slightly and Mickey loses his breath as Ian’s cock hits that perfect spot. 

“Yeah fuck,” 

“Right there Mick?”

“Just... fuck…” Mickey trails off losing all ability to speak as Ian keeps at it and then fucking bites into Mickey’s shoulder as his thrusts start to lose their rhythm. “Ian, don’t stop.”

Ian hand just lowers from being splayed across Mickey’s chest to wrap around Mickey’s cock as he continues to suck on his neck and thrusts earnestly. Ian’s careful with his thrusts, but the pain is still too much for Mickey to focus solely on Ian’s cock. Gallagher tumbles over that edge before he can get there, but Mickey’s far from put out, not when he can feel the fucker release inside him. Ian was right, that time back at Mandy’s was hot and fuck it was hot now too. 

Mickey listens as the redhead catches his breath as he slowly pulls out. The pain is still there, but it is just dull and mostly annoying. Feeling Ian back up just enough, Mickey moved to roll off his knees and on to his side, only to be stopped by a firm hand on his non-injured cheek. Mickey peered over his shoulder as he watched Ian gape at his ass while pulling his cheek to the side. He might have let him if he didn’t still need to get off. 

“Hey! Head in the game Gallagher,” Mickey spat as he moved to roll on to his side again.

Ian quickly nodded, also moving on to his side and making sure he was eye level with Mickey's swollen cock. He sucked it down and Mickey tried his hardest not to thrust. Ian offered no aid with his hands, too busy rolling Mickey’s balls, as his other played with the mess leaking out his ass. The fucker was even moaning as he thrust a few of his fingers back into Mickey. Ian swallowed him down as far as he could, crooking his fingers just so god damn perfectly. It only took a few more seconds and Mickey fell over that edge. 

The Milkovich keeps his eyes closed as he catches his breath, but he is still very aware of what Ian is doing. He feels as Ian pulls his fingers out of his ass, feels Ian’s cum still leaking out of him. He feels the bed shift as Ian inches up back to eye level. The fucker must be lying right in the pool of Mickey jizz, but he must not care ‘cause Mickey only feels him inch closer as Ian’s hand makes its way into his hair. 

Mickey’s blue eyes slowly open to see Gallagher looking at him with a smirk. “See, told you it was hot.” 

“Pfft never said it wasn’t.” Mickey huffs out. 

Ian’s smile only grows before faltering for a second as he asks, “So... we're a couple now, right?”

Mickey can feel all the reasons not to say yes poking at the back of his mind. There are thousands of reasons why being Ian’s boyfriend would only end badly. How long could this even last? It only being a matter of time before he fucked up and ended up behind bars again; or for Ian to want the full package and to want someone who could be out with him; or worst of all for Terry to find out…

But Ian’s still combing his fingers through Mickey’s sweaty hair and Mickey doesn’t want to listen to those thoughts. Plus he’s a fucking Milkovich and when Milkovichs want something, they take it. No reason to be a goddamn pussy about this. So what if he was fucked for life?

“‘Course we are.” 

The smile that lights up Gallagher’s face is more than worth whatever price Mickey will have to pay later. 

“Hmmm well then as your boyfriend...” 

Mickey rolls his eyes, but he can ignore how his heart fucking speeds up at Gallagher calling him that. Boyfriend, Mickey has a fucking boyfriend. 

“...gotta insist that when you go to the clinic to get tested, you get your ass looked at as well.” 

“My ass is fine-” Mickey starts only to jerk a bit when Ian moves hand down to grab it. “Fuck off and we’re already fucked with out rubbers anyway…” 

“Better to be sure though, right? That we’re both clean and that I actually did a decent job of patching you up?”

The Milkovich doesn’t answer as he stares at Ian’s chest. His boyfriend’s chest. Mickey has a goddamn boyfriend. One who is too fucking worried about his ass.

“Mickey…”

“What? You get a promotion and suddenly you think you got the right to nag?” Mickey half mumbles before he pushes his tongue into the corner of his mouth. 

“Yup, it’s part of the deal. I blow you till you get full clearance to fuck...”

Mickey tries not to, but he still chuckles at the redhead’s words. 

“... and I get to nag your ass till I can get back in your ass.” Ian concluded with a laugh of his own before punctuating it with a kiss. Mickey expects him to pull away, but Ian just lingers there, lightly alternating between pressing his lips into Mickey’s and latching on to Mickey’s bottom lip as he traces it with his tongue. 

Mickey has to get going. Boyfriend or not he can't be caught here in Ian’s bed, or even leaving the Gallagher house. He’s not stupid enough to risk this thing he has got so soon, but a for a few more minutes Mickey lets himself pretend that his only worry is that is Gallagher won’t let up about the clinic; that his fucking boyfriend worries way too much. 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 is cursed and this is the longest I've gone between chapter updates, but hopefully they'll be coming quicker now. Hope you all enjoy!

Mickey was not expecting this. 

Sure, shit probably was gunna change a bit. He had felt the weird importance of that conversation in Gallagher’s kitchen; Not like he’s ever had that type of conversation with anyone else. Them being together was going to shift shit around, sure. Yet, Mickey almost feels like he flipped some weird ass switch inside of Gallagher’s head. 

The first thing that changes is the texting. 

Mickey rolled his eyes after he had headed back to his own apartment and noticed a “Did your ass make it home safe?” text from Ian. Mickey had just responded with a middle finger emoji. 

‘Cause seriously? The fuck was that shit?

When Mickey woke up the next morning he found another text from Gallagher. This one he appreciated a bit more, seeing as it was accompanied with a picture of Ian’s abs and morning wood. 

**Ian** **  
** **7:12 am**   
_ This is why you should’ve stayed over _ .

Mickey responds with the same emoji and had figured that was the last of texts, until Gallagher got too horny to resist wanting to bang. 

It wasn’t. 

Ian doesn’t let up with the texts throughout the week. Some are sexual, some teasing, some just random as fuck. Why would Mickey want to see pictures of the fucking sunrise? Mickey doesn’t really know what the fuck to say back most of the time, so he just goes with the first thing that comes to mind. Gallagher doesn’t seem to care though, if anything Mickey’s responses only encourage the fucker. 

The second change comes in the form of the redhead showing up at Mickey’s apartment, randomly, without warning. 

Mickey should be pissed, seeing how Iggy could have done the exact same thing at any moment, but Gallagher seemed committed to his blow jobs till ‘Mickey’s ass is in the clear’ thing; same way he’s committed to the ‘nag Mickey about the clinic’ thing. 

But Ian doesn’t claw at Mickey’s clothes the minute he walks through the door anymore. Instead the fucker would show up, ignore Mickey’s complaining at the lack of notice, kiss him hello, and then head for the kitchen or the couch. If Mickey had food out Gallagher had no issue picking through it. If there was no food to be found, Ian would suggest they order pizza, acting like he did this all the fucking time. 

Which... okay.... they kind of did, but it always started with fucking before.

The hang out shit came after they had blown their loads. It’s not entirely different, it is just that Mickey is realizing how often Ian used to always just stare at him, his lips pressed into a thin line, apparently trying his best to hold back. That face is gone and it's replaced with a soft smile and Ian’s never ending suggestions. Honestly, Mickey quite prefers this change, less reason to worry what the fuck is going around in Ian’s head if he’s blabbing all the time. 

What he doesn’t prefer is the fucking complaining. Ian doesn’t just take to bringing up the clinic, over and over, he also rags on Mickey for not texting his sister. 

“She keeps bringing you up.”

“So? You wanna talk about my sister or are you gunna use your mouth for something else?”

It was a line that seemed to shut him up for a little while, but quickly Ian shifted back to bitching about the clinic. Granted, his tactics on this front were a little more successful. He’d slowly finger Mickey while sucking him off, pulling off every few minutes to suck bruises into Mickey’s thighs and talk about how hard he was going to fuck him once Mickey got his doctor’s note. 

It takes a few more days of badgering, blowing, and Ian’s test results appearing magically on Mickey’s counter one morning, for Mickey to finally cave. He’d never gotten tested in his life and the whole thing is awkward as fuck, especially the part of convincing the doc that it was definitely not a bullet wound in his ass, but Mickey got the go ahead on all fronts.

With his damn results in hand, Mickey pulled out his phone to make sure Gallagher was at his place by the time he got back. 

**Mickey  
** **3:52  
** [picture of test results]  
You better be at my place in fucking two minutes

**3:54  
** _ Fucking Finally!  
My shift is done at 6.  
I’ll head straight to you after _

**4:00  
** Fuck that!  
say your sick

**4:01  
** _ Sick? _

**4:02  
** Tell em you got aids or something  
I put up with enough of your bitching  
You need to get the fuck in me

**4:05  
** _ Oh no!  
Your boyfriend worries about you  
Life must be so fucking hard!  _

Mickey's mind stutters as he reads Ian’s last text. That's the third thing that’s changed. Ian just says this shit. He says it in texts, in person, fucking when every he feels like it. Every time he does, Mickey's whole body seems to react. His heart speeds up, his eyes get wide, and his brain has to do a goddamn reset. 

Boyfriend.

Ian is his fucking boyfriend. 

Mickey walks the rest of the way home without texting Ian back, waiting until he was behind the safety of his front door again before pulling out his phone. He rereads Gallagher’s text a few more times, still trying to figure out what the fuck to say back. 

As he steps away from the door Mickey bites his lip as an idea starts to form. He quickly moves to his bedroom, strips off his clothes, lays down on his bed, and starts to slowly work his cock. Mickey lets his mind wander back to the feel of Ian above him, thrusting into him as hard as he can. It doesn’t take too long for the Milkovich to reach full mast. He quickly grabs his cell phone, takes a breath, and opens the camera app. 

He’s nowhere near as impressive as Ian, but Mickey’s dick is still solidly in the average range as far as dicks go. Either way he’s sure this will get Gallagher’s attention. 

**4:23  
** Know what is hard?  
[Picture Attached]

Mickey waits as patiently as he can, still stroking his cock with his free hand, for Gallagher’s reply. Sure, Gallagher’s sent him his own dick pic this past week, but Mickey’s never returned the favor; he has never really seen the point until now. 

At least he thought he saw the point. With every minute that passes by with no response from Gallagher Mickey’s confidence in the idea starts to wane. Maybe sending him a shot of his dick when he was at work was off the table?

**4:33  
** _ jesus christ   
_ _ leaving now  
_ _ Don’t cum till I get there! _

Mickey is smirking at his phone, but does stop stroking himself and instead ops to pull his boxers back on. He heads out to the kitchen to grab a beer, pausing to glance at the two sets of test results now resting on his kitchen counter. Mickey pulls open the fridge and grabs a bottle, his eyes still glancing at the sheets of paper. 

It’s stupid, but something about knowing that they are both his and Gallaghers, stacked on top of each other … his boyfriend's test results. 

The boyfriend that was coming over to fuck him raw. 

**BANG BANG BANG**

Mickey huffs a laugh at the sound coming from his apartment door. He waits for a moment, biting his lip as he checks his phone and sees no other texts from Gallagher. Barely 30 second pass before once again...

**BANG BANG BANG**

Mickey chuckles as he finally starts walking to the door. Fucking Ian must of ran here to get to Mickey’s so quick, though not fast enough seeing as Mickey’s erection had already disappeared. 

“One Fucking second Jesus…” Mickey rambles teasingly, a smirk still pulling at his lips. He quickly unlocks the deadbolt and slides the chain off, only to open the door and find his fucking brother standing on the other side. 

“Yo!” 

“Fucking no.” Mickey spat, grabbing the door to slam it in his brother's face, only to be stopped by Iggy’s well placed boot. 

“I brought party favors!” Iggy quickly exclaims, holding up a bag full of weed, as well as another with more than a few random pills all mixed together. He looked fucking ridiculous, waving the bags around like a white flag, while Mickey tried to shove him back out the door. 

“I don’t want your fucking favors. Get out!” 

“Come on bro! Dad’s all jacked up on some stupid cocktail again…” Iggy trailed off as he continued to wiggle his way under Mickey’s arm and through the sliver of space provided by the barely open door. Not one to play fair, the elder Milkovich quickly jabbed his brother in the ribs and used the distraction to push the rest of the way inside. 

“The fuck, Iggy? Go home, find a bar, I don’t give a shit. I’m god damn busy.”

“Busy doing what, jacking off?” Iggy asked with a snort as he nodded at Mickey’s lack of clothes. 

Mickey just lunged at his brother, trying his best to grab hold of his arm, shirt, fucking anything so he could drag him out. All the while Iggy dodged each of his attempts, scurrying around Mickey’s couch to avoid him. 

“Why can’t I just chill for a bit? You got a girl comin’ over or somethin’?” Iggy asked as he dodged another hit aimed at his face, spinning out of Mickey’s reach. 

Mickey stuttered for just a moment and as clueless as Iggy usually was, he apparently had regrown some brain cells that day. Mickey could feel his fucking face getting redder by the minute. He tried his best to keep a scowl on his face, pass it off as his growing irritation, but Iggy wasn’t buying it, if the fucking grin filling up his dumb ass face was anything to go by. 

“Wait. Seriously?! You got a girl? What? You think I nab that pussy out from under you?” Iggy rambled out between his laughs as Mickey just continued to lunge at him. 

Gallagher would be here any fucking second and there was no fucking way even Iggy wouldn’t put two and two together. 

“She hotter than Lana?”

“Iggy, I fucking swear-”

“Come on, bro! Her tits nice? Give me something here!”

“The only thing I’m gunna fucking give you is a goddamn foot shoved down your throat if you don’t get the fuck out!”

“Tell me what she looks like and I’ll leave.” Iggy stuttered out as he froze a few steps away from his brother. His hand were both raised, but that fucking grin was still plastered on his dumb ass face. “Hair, Tits, and Ass and I will leave you to it.” 

Mickey bit his lip as he glared Iggy down. He could waste another 10 mins getting his hands on Iggy, but Gallagher could walk through the fucking door at any minute. Mickey sighed before grimacing as he gave into his brother. “Redhead, small tits, good ass. Now get the fuck out!” 

“Seriously? You good with small tits after Lana?”

“Out Iggy!” Mickey demanded as his hand finally latched around Iggy’s arm. 

“I means Lana’s were fucking fantastic man, you can get it up for tiny tits after that?” Iggy continued on as Mickey pulled him to the door. “And since when do you like redheads?”

“Fuck off!” Mickey yelled and finally slammed his apartment door in Iggy’s face. 

“No glove no love bro!” Iggy cackled from the other side of the door. 

Mickey just rolled his eyes. No glove was the whole fucking reason he was getting laid today. The aggravation from his brother was still running through his body, putting him on edge. Fucking Iggy, why did the fuck did he always have to have the worst timing?

**Bing**

Mickey grabbed his phone off the counter, still sighing heavily with aggravation.

**Ian  
4:54  
** Did Iggy just leave your place??  
I thought I saw him walk out of your building  
Hid in the alley  
Don’t think he saw me

Each text came through immediately after the other, and still the fucking dots were popping up. Mickey took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and hit the call button. 

_ “Mick?” _

“How long ago did you see him?”

_ “About two minutes I thin-” _

“And he didn’t see you? You’re fucking sure?

_ “He didn’t even turn my direction, headed the opposite way.”  _

Mickey takes a deep breath, tilting the phone away from his mouth. Fuck that was close, too fucking close. 

_“You’d think he’d come back?_ ” Ian’s voice fills his ear. The hesitance in his voice only seems to build Mickey’s nerves. Gallagher isn’t supposed to be the nervous one. He’s supposed to keep pushing, tell Mickey that it will be fine, nothing to worry about. _“I can come back later if-”_

“What? No just…. Just get the fuck up here.”

_ “You sure?” _

“Gallagher.”

_ “Okay, if you're sure...”  _

He’s not. Iggy could be waiting around the corner to get a look at whatever girl he thinks his brother might be banging. That fear, and the fucked up spiral that comes after it, is niggling at the back of Mickey’s mind, but he hangs up the phone and waits to let Gallagher in. 

Mickey only has to wait three more minutes before there is a more gentle knock at his door. Ian comes in just like he has every other day that week, only Mickey can’t stand not to be touched right now. He needs the redhead’s stupid large hands on him to quiet his mind. So he locks the front door and immediately grabs Ian’s arm as he tries to walk further into Mickey’s apartment

“Mic-mmph”

Ian’s words are quickly smothered as Mickey spins him back to face him and quickly captures the redhead’s mouth with his own. Their tongues immediately connect as the brunette wraps one hand on Ian’s hip with his other around Gallagher's neck. Mickey feels the tension leave his body as Gallagher finally grabs on to him, pulling him in so their bodies are flush against each other. 

Their kiss becomes almost punishing, like Mickey is trying his best to devour the taller man, but Ian doesn’t have a problem keeping up. It's like the minute Mickey touched his arm he understood what the Milkovich wanted. 

Ian starts to walk backwards, pulling the shorter man with him. Mickey doesn’t stop him and instead moves to pull at Ian’s clothes discarding them on their way to Mickey’s bedroom. Even though he had a solid head start, Mickey and Ian are both naked by the time Mickey has shut his bedroom door. He usually doesn’t give a shit and leaves it open, but the extra barrier between then and the rest of the world eases Mickey’s nerves. 

But those stupid thoughts still hover in the back of his mind. Gallagher’s hands are wrapping around his neck and grabbing at his ass as Mickey pulls him closer. But then he notices the open blinds on his bedroom window. 

Mickey jerks away from Ian, his eyes locked on the window as he tries to catch his breath. He’s never walked around his building before. Never took the time to see from where on the street you could see into his bedroom. How many times had he let Gallagher touch him while the blinds were open? What if Iggy was right at the perfect spot, just fucking waiting to catch a glimpse of who Mickey was banging? 

Mickey doesn’t realize how hard he’s breathing till Ian’s hand cups the side of his face. Gallagher is still standing at a distance, just waiting with his hand firm and steady on Mickey. 

“Mick?”

Mickey closes his eyes for a moment, biting his lip as he tries to just focus on Ian’s hand. 

“The blinds.” Mickey spits out, his eyes still closed. He feels Ian’s hand pull away and listens to the steady fall of his foot steps for a moment before opening his eyes. Ian is standing just to the side of the widow, quickly pulling the blinds down and closing them, taking a quick moment to peek out at the street below. 

“No one’s out there.” Ian says firmly, pausing for a moment before continuing with a lighter tone, “Doubt Iggy could piece together which window is yours.” 

“He thinks I have some chick coming over. Fuckers dedicated when it comes to seeing tits.” 

Ian only raises his eyebrow at that, still waiting by the edge of the window. Mickey finally lets out a huge sigh and shakes his head. He’s too wound up. He needs to take the edge off. Without a word he turns around, opens his bedroom door, and heads down the hall. He snatches up his boxers right outside the door and quickly looks around his apartment for that stupid bag of party favors Iggy had brought over. 

Ian follows Mickey out, also grabbing his boxers again as he watches Mickey mumble under his breath till he spots the plastic bag. It has got a few pills gathered at the bottom, but it’s the three joints that Mickey has his eye on. As he scrambles around for his lighter Mickey jumps at the sound of some stupid ass song filling his apartment. Ian just calmly walks over to his discarded pants lying on the floor, digging his phone out of his pants pocket.

Mickey expects Gallagher to just silence the fucking thing. Instead the redhead answers it and the Milkovich tries his best to focus on lighting the joint between his lips. Mickey take half a puff before he almost drops it when he hears the first words that come out of Ian’s mouth. 

“Hey Mandy--”

Mickey whips around. The fuck is with his siblings today?

“Ahhhh, I haven’t seen him?”

Mickey’s brows crease together as he watches Gallagher’s eyes go wide and he starts to shift nervously. 

“I’m not ly-” Gallagher starts only for Mandy to cut him off screaming loud enough Mickey can hear her muffled voice across the room. “I didn’t think you’d want to know?” Ian finally rambles out. 

Know? Knowing fucking what?

“Mandy that’s not-”

More screaming across the phone line and Ian’s now looking up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, He called me…. What was I supposed to do? Not treat him?”

The fuck?

“Mandy- Hello? Mandy?” Ian finally pulls the phone away from his face and throws his phone at Mickey’s couch. 

Mandy hung up on him. The fuck would Mandy hang up on him for? 

“The fuck does she know?” Mickey asks, advancing on Ian. Gallagher just grabs the joint out of his hand, and takes a long hit before handing it back to Mickey, who is still looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Iggy told her I patched you up when you got shot. She’s pissed I didn’t let her know and…”

“And what? Fucking What Ian?”

“She’s pissed I let you drag me into your shit, Okay. Probably going to call- ”

**Buzz buzz buzz**

They both turn to look at Mickey’s phone vibrating across the kitchen counter. Mickey takes two more hits before offering it back to Ian. The redhead just shakes his head as they both wait for Mickey’s phone to go quiet. 

“Your family this fucking annoying?” Mickey asks over his shoulder as he moves over to the couch, collapsing into the cushions with a sigh. Why do the Milkovichs have to been such fucking cock blockers today. Who sent out the fucking memo. 

“Give it a week. I’m sure I’ll be bitching to you about some Gallagher bullshit soon.” Ian replies as he joins Mickey on the couch. He chose the cushion right next to Mickey with practically every inch of their sides pressed against each other, but apparently that still isn’t enough, because as Mickey takes another hit Ian lays his arm over the back of the couch, so his hand can massage the back of Mickey’s neck. 

Mickey had wanted to get straight to the banging today. How the fuck did they start with this touching shit again. Part of him wants to shrug Ian off, push him onto his back, and get back to what they had started, but stupid Gallagher’s hands always feel too good. Instead Mickey just takes another hit willing the shit to kick in already and settle his mind. 

The Milkovich offers the joint again to Ian only to be turned down once again. It’s small, but it’s a question that has been niggling the back of his mind ever since New York. Plus, it is as good of a distraction as any. 

“What? Weed too hardcore for you?” Mickey asks ‘cause this isn't the first time he noticed that Gallagher isn’t one for any of the vices. 

Ian had barely taken a few sips of any of his beers the last couple of nights. He had nursed every one of his beers He had gotten in New York. He didn’t even take a single shot at that club. Maybe he was on some weird 12 step program that let you have a fucking sip? Mandy had mentioned being worried Ian was on shit before, but the fucker looked nothing like any junkie Mickey knew. 

Gallagher’s biting his lip and barely looking at Mickey, but he still hasn’t taken the joint off Mickey’s fingers. 

“Kind of....”Ian mumbles off. Mickey watches as Ian’s eyes get shifty, refusing to look at his face. The hand that was massaging his neck has stopped moving. The seconds tick on and Mickey is about to drop it, just call Ian a fucking pussy, when Gallagher finds his words. “I’m bi polar so...”

“Bi ...what?”

Ian sighs and he’s still not looking Mickey in the eye, but he pushes on. “My brain goes through these highs and lows all by itself. Like I took a bunch of uppers...when it’s really bad I see shit, can’t sit down, bounce all over the place, then I just crash… only the lows can last way fucking longer than a few days, like weeks. Sometimes I can’t move, can’t get out of bed, that is till I’m up again, and then rinse and repeat.” Ian finishes the rambling explanation only to then leap off the couch. 

Ian grabs the edge of his bag that he had thrown on the floor when Mickey was trying to suck out his tongue, pulling it closer before digging inside. He pulls out a few orange bottles and shakes them before continuing, “Meds help keep me even as long as I take them. The weed can trigger shit sometimes, at least for me, some people it doesn’t affect them.” 

Mickey just blinks as he takes another hit of the joint before putting it out on the ashtray on the coffee table. Ian still isn’t looking at him, just staring at the pill bottles in his hands. They’re both quiet, just the quiet sound of the pills rolling around the plastic containers fill the room. 

“That also why you're a pussy with your beer?” Mickey finally asks and Ian huffs out a laugh as he comes back to the couch, now sitting on the other end so there is a whole cushion between him and Mickey. 

“Yeah, meds make me a light weight. I’ll get totally trashed off just one.” 

The redhead still isn’t looking at him so Mickey turns and reaches out with his leg. He just sort of pokes him in the thigh before resting his foot against the side of Ian’s leg. Gallagher finally looks up at him after that, but his face is all nervous with his lips pressed together. 

“You must be a cheep fucking date then.”

Ian laughs and this time the smile stays on his face. He sets down his pills next to the ashtray and lets his hand rest on Mickey’s calf. “Your boyfriend’s a lightweight….think you can handle that?”

Mickey leans forward, grabbing at Ian’s arm so he can pull him over to his side of the couch. The redhead comes easily, crawling over the Milkovich till he’s leaning over him, hovering just a few inches above his face. 

“Yeah, I can handle it.” Mickey’s reply is firm but quiet before he leans up and captures Ian’s lips. Both Men let out a sigh of relief at the contact, sinking into each other.


End file.
